Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1740086.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, F/F, Multi
  Fandom:
      Worm_(Web_Serial_Novel)
  Relationship:
      Danny/Taylor, Danny/Hannah, Taylor/Chris, Amy/Victoria, Victoria/Dean,
      Danny/Taylor/Hannah, Taylor/Brian, Armsmaster/Bitch, Dean/Missy, Kaiser/
      Rune
  Character:
      Danny_Hebert, Taylor_Hebert, Armsmaster, Emily_Piggot, Hannah_(Miss
      Militia), Chris_(Kid_Win), Emma_Barnes, Madison_Clements, Sophia_Hess,
      Amy_Dallon_(Panacea), Victoria_Dallon_(Glory_Girl), Mark_Dallon, Carol
      Dallon, Lisa_Wilbourn, Rachel_Lindt, Brian_Laborn, Aisha_Laborn, Alec_
      (Regent), Dean_(Gallant), Dennis_(Clockblocker), Missy_(Vista), Rune,
      Kaiser_(Max_Anders), Kreig_(James_Fliescher)
  Additional Tags:
      Parent/Child_Incest, Canon_Lesbian_Character, Lesbian_Sex, Anal_Sex,
      Breast_Play, Oral_Sex, Futanari, Angry_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-04 Updated: 2017-10-01 Chapters: 32/? Words: 134216
****** Danny & Taylor Hebert - Finding the Way ******
by Axxor
Summary
     Even before their powers trigger, Danny and Taylor Hebert share a
     devastating secret.
     Afterward, they find it both easier and harder to pretend that life
     will ever be normal again.
     A 'clean' version, minus the father/daughter incest, can be found
     here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10274608/1/Finding-the-Way
***** The Flute *****
Taylor stared at the flute.
 
It had been her mother’s before she died.  It was not an expensive instrument,
but her mother had always kept it polished and cleaned, and made sure that the
keys worked smoothly.  She could still recall her mother playing it; the sound
had been haunting and beautiful, and had brought tears to her eyes.
 
There were tears in her eyes now, tears of pain and anguish.
 
The flute lay atop the heap of trash destined for the compactor.  When she had
found it, she had first felt a surge of joy; Emma had only taken it to scare
her.
 
But then she looked more closely.
 
It had been ... violated.
 
The body had been beaten flat, with what must have been a brick.  The nickel-
plated keys had been torn half off.  And something horrible, with a vile odour,
had been smeared into every crack, every crevice, every finger-hole.
 
She couldn’t even bear to touch it.
 
She wanted to throw up.
 
She went looking for a bag, something made of plastic.  If she could wrap it
up, get it home, Dad could fix it.  Dad could fix anything.
 
When she got back, the flute was gone.  She couldn’t see it anywhere.  She had
turned her back; she had lost it a second time.
 
One more torture to the many that already lay upon her shoulders.
 
Oh god, what can I do now?
 
She went to the bathroom, locked herself into a stall, and cried and cried.
 
***
 
Danny Hebert came home to find Taylor lying curled up on the sofa; the room
lights were not on, and nor was the TV.  She was staring at nothing, arms
around her knees.
 
“Afternoon, kiddo,” he said, then slowed.  She had not answered him.
 
“Taylor?” he asked her.
 
She whimpered.  It was the sound of an animal in the extremity of pain.
 
In an instant, he was seated on the sofa beside her, pulling her on to his
lap.  She clung to him desperately.
 
“God, Taylor,” he said softly, patting her on the back gently as she started to
cry, “what happened?”
 
“I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed.  “I didn’t mean it to happen. Oh god, I didn’t
want it to happen.”
 
“What?” he asked her. “What happened?”
 
Oh god, he thought. She’s been raped.  Or she’s had sex with a boy and she’s
pregnant. On top of everything else.  Oh god.
 
“Who did it?” he asked automatically.  “Who did this to you?”  I’ll kill
him, he thought.  I will seriously kill him.
 
“I took it to school,” she said.  He couldn’t follow her.  Took what?
 
But she was speaking. “Mom’s flute.  I took it to school.  Thought I could get
through the day if I could go to my locker and look at it, hold it.”
 
He knew the flute, knew it well.  He’d given it to Taylor as something to
remember her mother by.  A cold feeling stole over him.  “What happened?”
 
She was crying into his shirt, getting it wet.  He couldn’t have cared less. 
“Someone – someone took it from my locker.  Wrecked it.  Destroyed
it.  Killed it.  I couldn’t touch it.  Couldn’t.  It had ... stuff on it.”
 
Her misery was so complete that he could not even begin to raise any anger for
her having taken something so precious to school.  But she had said, it was in
her locker.  Someone took it from her locker?
 
“Where is it now, kiddo?” he asked, very gently.
 
“Went to get a bag,” she sniffled.  “But when I got back – it was gone.  Like
it was never there.” She burst out crying all over again. “I should have
grabbed it, kept it, not worried about the shit on it.  I was so stupid!”
 
He held her, rocked her, while his heart burned with anger.  Not at her; never
at her.  But anger at those heartless scum who had made Taylor’s life a living
hell for the last two years.
 
“Who did it, Taylor?” he asked.  “Do you know who did it?”
 
She looked up at him, her eyes reddened, her face tear-stained.  “I think it
was Emma.  Or Sophia.  Or Madison.”
 
“Emma?” he asked.  “Emma Barnes?”  He paused in confusion.  “But she’s your
friend!”
 
She shook her head.  “No, Dad,” she said dully.  “She hasn’t been my friend
since we started high school.”  And the tale tumbled out; the snide comments,
the references to her mother, the shoves, pinches, trippings.
 
How she would find her clothes in the toilet, or thrown at her in the showers.
How her classwork would be defaced or stolen and handed in by one of the three
as their own.  How her projects would be destroyed or sabotaged.
 
How it was always Emma, or Sophia, or Madison behind it.  How they never quite
did enough to be seen by a teacher.  How her complaints had fallen on deaf
ears; apparently two alibis were worth one complaint, and they always backed
each other up.
 
He listened, the anger turning to cold rage in his gut.
 
“Christ almighty,” he ground out.  “I’m going to ring Alan Barnes right now and
–“
 
“No Dad, no,” she pleaded, clutching at his sleeve, as though to stop him.  “It
won’t do any good, really it won’t.  And it’s over now anyway.  Today was the
last day before Christmas break.  Maybe they’ll have gotten bored of it by
January. Found something else to do.”
 
He saw her point, though he still wanted to ring Alan Barnes, and tell him a
few home truths about his precious Emma.  And the Clements girl ... he didn’t
even know her father.  But he should know as well.
 
But Taylor had asked him not to.
 
“Well, fine,” he said reluctantly.  “But over this break, we’re going to sit
down and you’re going to tell me everything that’s been going on. Everything. 
Anything that’s a possible criminal offence, we’ll take special note of.  And
if they do one goddamn thing to you come January, we take the lot to the
police.  I am not letting them get away with one single more goddamn thing.” 
He held her tightly.  “Ever.”
 
Taylor hugged him back. She loved him so much; he felt more like her father
than he had, these last few months.
 
“Thanks, Dad,” she said softly.  “I’ve –“
 
“You’ve what?” he asked gently.
 
“I’ve been writing down what they’ve been doing, since September,” she said. 
“Every day.”
 
His head came up, and he looked at her.  “Right,” he said.  “I want to see
that.  In fact, I’m going to look around for a legal aid expert, and see how
much of what you’ve written down is actionable in court. So if they start up
again ...” He didn’t have to finish.  
 
“I can get that for you,” she said.  “Plus the emails they’ve been sending me.”
 
“Bad?” he asked quietly.
 
She nodded, her head down. “I ... I didn’t want to bother you.”
 
He drew in a deep breath. “I ... haven’t been much of a father, lately,” he
admitted.  “But I’m back now.  You’re my daughter, and I love you, and I will
defend you to the very last breath in my body.”
 
She relaxed into his embrace.  Tears came to her eyes again, but they were
tears of a different kind.
 
Dad’s going to help. It’s all going to be okay.
 
***
 
“But you’ve got to be able to do something with it!” Danny protested, trying to
keep his voice down. Beside him, Taylor shrank into her chair, head down.
 
“I’m really sorry,” said the legal aid representative, carefully sorting the
papers on the desk. “The emails are all from throwaway accounts.  The people
who sent them obviously chose them for that purpose.”  He looked directly at
Taylor.  “Personally, I have no doubt that they are all from these people you
speak of, but proving it in court is a far different matter.”
 
“Okay,” said Danny. “The other things.  How about them?”
 
The rep cleared his throat. “Frankly, Mr Hebert, I am astonished and appalled
at the systematic campaign of bullying that has been going on here.  Your
daughter does not seem to be the attention-seeking type that would create such
a thing from whole cloth. But.”  
 
He put his hand on the pile of papers.  “All of this is simply ink on paper. 
She would have to be cross-examined about each and every incident, and the
defending attorney would do his best to shake her story, or produce witnesses
that brought them into doubt.”  
 
His lips tightened. “If I had even the slightest shred of hope that justice
could be wrung out of what is written in here, I would urge you to take it to
the courts.  But if, as you say, the chief offender’s father is an attorney in
his own right, then he has tricks he can play, even if you win.”
 
He sighed.  “I will put you in touch with people I know, people who might see
more than I can in this.  I can take it myself, if you insist, but I can
already see how it would turn out, and that way is badly, for yourselves.”
 
“Right,” said Danny heavily.  “Well, thank you for your time.” He stood, picked
up the papers, and shook the man’s hand briefly.
 
“I wish I could do more,” said the rep.
 
“So do I,” said Danny shortly.
 
The door closed behind him.
 
The legal aid representative got up and put on his coat.
 
Cases like this depressed him.  I need a drink.
 
***
 
Danny eyed Taylor over the table that night at dinner.  She was silent,
withdrawn, pale.  Her food had been pushed around the plate, but barely
touched.
 
He reached out and touched her arm; she jumped.
 
“Are you okay, kiddo?” he asked gently.
 
She nodded; barely a movement, her hair swayed gently.  He could not see her
eyes.
 
“It’s okay,” he said, with enthusiasm he didn’t feel.  “We’ll go and see
someone else tomorrow.  Someone better.”
 
She shook her head. “Won’t make any difference.”  Her voice was barely audible.
 
“Of course it will,” he said heartily, but there was nothing behind
it.  Christ, who am I trying to convince? he asked himself.  Me or her? 
Because I know she isn’t, and I don’t think I am either.
 
“Okay,” he said. “Just hang in there, all right? Things will get better.”
 
She raised her eyes to his, very slightly.  The doubt he saw in them tore at
his heart.
 
I’m supposed to be her father! he raged.  Silently, impotently.  I’m supposed
to protect her!  How the goddamn fucking hell can I do that against this?
 
And then he looked at her again, and he felt a faint chill of worry.  People in
Taylor’s position had committed suicide before, and they would again.
 
Christ, he thought. Not my girl.  Not Taylor.  I couldn’t stand that. I’d die
first.
 
“Can you do me a favour and clear the dishes?” he asked gently.  “I need to go
to the bathroom.”
 
She nodded faintly, and rose to clear the table.  He went upstairs.
 
He used the bathroom, all right.  But he also removed all the dangerous pills
from the bathroom cabinet, and the straight razor he favoured for shaving over
the disposable type.  If she killed herself with that ... I’d never forgive
myself.
 
By the time he came downstairs, she had started on the dishes, and he gave her
a hand.  They chatted while they did it; or rather, he chatted, and she gave
him nods, shakes of the head, and monosyllabic replies.
 
They watched TV for a while after that; or rather, the TV was on, and they sat
in front of it. Taylor barely seemed to be taking any of it in, and Danny was
trying to figure out what to say to her, to tell her that he loved her, to
please, oh goddamn please don’t kll herself.
 
Eventually, she got up from the sofa.  He got up too, switching the TV off.
 
“Night, Dad,” she said quietly into the silence.  “Thanks for trying, today.”
 
He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly.  “And we’ll keep trying,” he
assured her.  “Together.”  He put his hand under her chin, tilted her head up
so that her eyes met his.  “And Taylor?”
 
She looked at him, her eyes vast and melancholy.  “Yes, Dad?” Her voice was
barely a whisper.
 
“If you ever need to talk to me about anything, no matter how bad, no matter
when, no matter where, or even if you just need me to hold you, I will be there
for you. I will make time.  No matter what.  I promise.  Okay?”
 
The urgency in his voice seemed to get through to her, and she smiled, very
slightly.  “Okay, Dad,” she said, in a slightly stronger voice. “Thanks.”
 
She held him tightly for a moment longer, then padded up the stairs to bed.
 
***
 
She lay in bed and stared out at the darkness.  It didn’t matter whether her
eyes were open or closed, whether she looked into reality or into her
thoughts.  It was all darkness.
 
I don’t see how I can go on, she told herself. I’ve got nothing more.  They’ve
taken it all away from me.  I don’t even have my flute anymore.
 
She clenched her eyelids shut, but burning tears still leaked out on to the
pillow.
 
Dad tries, and he loves me, but ... it’s not enough.  He has to think of other
things, and I can’t be in his thoughts every second of the day. I have to be
strong, and I can’t. I’m out of strength.  There’s no more.  She felt the void
filling her chest.  She didn’t even have the strength to cry any more.  I’m
done.  I’m finished.  They’ve won.
 
She found herself idly wondering how she was going to kill herself.  At the
thought, she said to herself, that’s terrible. But she realised that she didn’t
mean it.  She only thought it should be terrible.
 
And then, a new thought struck her.  Oh god, she thought.  This is what Dad was
talking about.  

He said, any time I need him to hold me, he would be there to hold me.

I need him to hold me, now.
 
***
 
Danny Hebert opened his eyes from a light doze.
 
“Wstfgl?” he asked.
 
“Dad?” came Taylor’s voice from the darkness.
 
“Taylor?” he asked, becoming alert in an instant.  “What’s up?”
 
“Can I get in with you, just for a while?” she asked, her voice near tears.  “I
need you to hold me.  Please.”
 
“Of course,” he agreed, lifting the covers.  “Get in quick, it’s cold out
there.”
 
She slid into bed quickly, shivering slightly.  “It’s really cold out there,”
she agreed.  He gathered her into his arms to warm her up.  She snuggled close
to him gratefully.  Her skin was chilly to the touch.
 
He held her close. She held her arms close to her, enjoying the embrace.
“What’s the matter, kiddo?” he asked quietly..  “Did you want to talk about
something?
 
After a moment, she shook her head.  She didn’t want to freak him out with talk
of casual thoughts of suicide.  “Just wanted you to hold me, Dad,” she said
softly. “I just needed to know that someone in this crappy world loves me.”
 
He smiled and went to kiss her on the forehead; in the darkness, it landed
somewhere next to her left eye.  She giggled anyway.  
 
“Well, I do,” he assured her.  “And I always will.”
 
She tried to get comfortable, but their knees kept knocking together.  “Roll
over,” he advised her.  “Spoon fashion.”
 
“Yeah,” she agreed, and rolled over.
 
At this point, it is relevant to note that Danny was wearing just boxers to
bed, whereas Taylor was wearing a short T-shirt and loose panties.  Up to this
point, neither of them had known nor cared what the other was wearing; they
were father and daughter, undergoing a moment of caring and emotional
reinforcement.
 
However, that was where matters began to unravel.
 
When Taylor rolled over, it twisted her panties around, pulling them just a
little bit off her butt. At the same time, her shirt rode up for the same
reason, the lower hem coming to rest just below her small breasts. She scooted
backwards, thus pulling her panties all the way off her butt, a fact she
noticed a little late.
 
For his part, Danny had woken with a half-hard erection, and having a girl in
his arms had not reduced the size of it in any way, daughter or no daughter. 
In fact, his bed had been empty for years, and he had never actually brought
anyone home to fill it.
 
So when Taylor’s accidentally naked buttocks slid back and encountered the head
of his penis, emerging from the waistband of his boxers, like it normally did,
the contact acted like the starting gun to a racehorse.  He suddenly got a lot
harder, and more of his erection emerged from the boxers.
 
Taylor felt something fleshy and warm prod her between her slightly parted
buttocks and slide upward; with a grunt of surprise, she reached back and
wrapped her hand around it. It was warm, and hard, and throbbed in her hand.
 
“Holy shit,” she said. “Dad?”
 
***
 
Danny expected, when his daughter rolled over, that he would put his arms
around her, and hold her, until she went to sleep.  What he did not expect was
that when she backed up to him, that her butt would be bare. Worse, that his
penis would decide that now was the time to misbehave.
 
And when Taylor reached back and grabbed him, he was most astonished of all.
 
“Taylor?” he croaked. “Taylor, you shouldn’t –“
 
***
 
Taylor rolled over again, the motion pulling her panties farther down and her
shirt up entirely off her breasts, but she didn’t care. She didn’t let go of
his now thoroughly erect penis.
 
“Dad,” she said, and she wasn’t quite sure whether she was experiencing
disgust, arousal, or both at the same time.  “Are you hard for me?”
 
He tried to push her away, and his hand found her bare breast.  It lingered
there for a telling, burning second, before he jerked it away.  “Taylor,” he
said. “Please.  Don’t.  This is wrong.”
 
She shook her head in the darkness.  “Dad,” she said softly.  “I don’t know
what to do.  I don’t know where to go.  I have no direction.”  She slid her
panties down and off, kicked them away.  Moved closer to him.  Opened her
thighs.  Took his unresisting hand and pressed it to her sex, let him feel the
heat, the moisture.
 
Her hand was sliding up and down his shaft, inexpertly but sending thrills of
pleasure through him.
 
“Let me do this,” she whispered, moving closer to him, her hard nipples
brushing his chest. “You’re all I have left.  I have nothing more.  Give me
something more.  Please.”
 
Christ, he thought. My daughter is naked in bed with me, seducing me!  He
groaned inwardly, trying to force back the pleasure that she was causing him
with her manipulations.  His hand, unbidden, was caressing her soft wet folds
of flesh, drawing soft moans of pleasure from her.
 
“Oh, god,” he groaned. What do I do?
 
***
 
When Taylor had first felt his erection prodding at her butt, she hadn’t known
what it was; of course, when she reached down to grab for it, she realised
immediately.  Her first instinct had been to let it go, but then something
stopped her.  Her dad was hard for her?  Holy shit!
 
Such was her craving for some level of acknowledgement that she saw her
father’s involuntary reaction to her accidental touch to be some kind of
validation of her existence. She was woman, she was female, she could arouse
men.  Even her father.
 
On some level, he wants to have sex with me.  Or at least his penis does.
 
She thought that, somehow, she should be disgusted or repulsed by the
idea.  Incest.  But to a mind that had recently begun to consider seriously the
ramifications and the execution of a good suicide plan, the thought of her
father being aroused by touching her butt seemed ... less than a problem.
 
And, truth be told, she was feeling more than a little arousal at the idea of
... what? Holding his penis?  Which, by the way, was still standing stiff and
hard at her touch.  Letting him touch her? His hand was sending nummy waves of
pleasure all through her body.  She did not want him to stop.  I want him to do
more to me.  So much more.
 
She stopped short at the idea.  ‘More’, in this case, meant ... sex.
 
Do I really want to have sex with my father?
 
Again, the lack of emotional reaction.  No backlash.  Arousal still flushing
her system.
 
Well, fuck it. Nothing else has worked in my life. May as well give this a
shot.

It’ll be better than pulling some boy into my bed to maul my tits and stick it
into me.  At least I know Dad loves me.
 
***
 
She moved her hand faster, gripped him harder.  He groaned again.
 
“Dad,” she said softly.
 
“Taylor?” he responded, his breath coming in short gasps.
 
“Dad, I want you to make love to me.  Please.”
 
Utter silence.
 
“Dad?”  Even her hand stopped moving up and down his shaft.
 
“I can’t,” he groaned. “I mustn’t.  It’s wrong.”  Even he heard the tone in his
own voice; fighting a rearguard action, a lost cause.
 
She let go of his erection, shrugged out of the shirt, got up on one elbow. 
 Pulled him close to her.  Wrapped a leg around his.  His hand left her sex to
slide over her body.  His hard penis pressed against her belly.
 
“Dad,” she said, her voice firm.  “I need this.  I need you to ... “  She
stopped, and started again.  “I need to be loved, like a man loves a woman. 
And I need you to do it for me.”  She leaned in and kissed him, on the lips,
her mouth startlingly warm on his.  
 
“If you can’t make love to your daughter,” she whispered, guiding his hand to
her sex once more, and pressing it firmly into place, “then pretend I’m Mom. 
And make love to her.  Like it’s the very first time.  Or the last.”
 
He didn’t move his hand away.  It was a surrender, of sorts.
 
Unbidden, his other hand found her breast, and caressed it.  Below, his hand
gently rubbed her vulva, parting her labia, feeling the moisture within. 
Gently, his finger slid inside her.  She arched her back, drawing her breath in
sharply.
 
His fingers knew all the old tricks for exciting a woman; they were new tricks
to her, and they worked very effectively indeed.  He kissed her, as he had
kissed his wife, and drew her to him.
 
Under him, she moaned, and arched her back, as he elicited pleasure from her in
ways that she had never known existed.  When he poised above her, his penis
resting at the slippery-wet entrance to her vagina, she was ready.
 
Slowly, gently, responsive to her soft cries, her whispers, he slid into her. 
Took her for his own.  Changed her life forever.
 
Long into the night, Danny Hebert made love to his wife, and his daughter.  And
sometimes, the line blurred between the two.  He knew, deep down, that things
would look far different in the morning.
 
But right now, he didn’t care.
 
***
 
Taylor swam in an ocean of pleasure.  Her father’s gentle, experienced loving
had taken her to heights of arousal that she had never imagined, never
conceived.  She had tried to give back the same in kind, and had perhaps
succeeded. She loved her father; held him as he did these marvellous things to
her body, and showed her how to do equally marvellous things to him.  She
wanted this night to last forever.
 
She knew it wouldn’t, but she didn’t care.
 
***
 
Together, father and daughter, heads side by side, they slept  the sleep of the
exhausted and sated, arms and legs entwined, naked.
 
And just for this night .... they were content.
***** The Talk *****
Chapter Summary
     After their night of illicit pleasure, Danny wants to talk to Taylor
     about what happened. The talk does not go the way he expects ...
Danny slowly drifted into wakefulness.
 
He felt ... different, this morning.  More fulfilled, more complete.
 
Something had happened last night.  Something ... different. He couldn’t quite
remember.  But it had something to do with ...
 
He was holding someone in his arms, someone naked.  A woman. He was naked too. 
His arms were about her body, his hand cupping her breast. He squeezed it
gently, eliciting a Mmmm from his bed partner.
 
Her butt was pressed up against his crotch.  She wriggled it slightly.  He
began to harden with amazing speed, his penis uncurling to slide between her
smooth thighs.  He  reached down, sliding his hand over her stomach, between
her thighs, rubbed at her.  Felt moisture, arousal.
 
She parted her thighs slightly, reached down herself.  Tucked the head of his
penis into herself.  He moved his hips ever so slightly, slid into her, the hot
slippery vaginal canal enclosing him.
 
“Mmmm, Dad,” she said. “That feels so nice.”
 
Dad?
 
He jerked all the way awake, his hips bucking involuntarily, sliding much
father into her, the pleasure indescribable.  She turned her head to smile at
him lazily.  
 
“Good morning,” she murmured.
 
And then he remembered what he’d done last night, and who he’d done it with. 
And to.
 
Despite his arousal, despite the urgent warmth of her, he pulled back, slipping
out of her.
 
“Taylor,” he gulped. “Taylor.  What.  No.”
 
She pushed the covers back, exposing her nakedness and his.  Rolled over to
face him.
 
“Dad?” she said.
 
He was beginning to shake. “Taylor.  What we did last night was wrong.”
 
“Dad,” she said, pleading. “It was only wrong once you knew it was me.  Before
then, did it feel wrong?  Because it didn’t feel wrong to me.”
 
He shook his head. “No,” he said.  “It’s incest.  It’s wrong.  We shouldn’t
have done it.  I shouldnt’t have done it to you.  It was wrong of me.”
 
“But I wanted it,” she said, tears in her eyes.  “I wanted to do it.  I wanted
to do one beautiful thing, have one beatiful memory, that they couldn’t spoil,
couldn’t take away from me.”
 
“No,” he said.  “It’s wrong.  Even if you started it ...”  he recalled more of
what had happened.  She may have started it, but he had certainly participated,
willingly and repeatedly, once she had brought down his defenses.  His voice
trailed off.  Taylor had rolled over, facing away, and half-curled into a ball.
 
“Taylor?” he asked.
 
Her shoulders shook. She was crying.
 
“Taylor,” he said more gently, reaching out and turning her over to face him. 
“Taylor.  Speak to me.  I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly.  I’m sorry.”
 
She looked at him with a tear-stained face.
 
“Dad,” she said. “Last night, before we went to bed, you promised that if I
wanted to talk to you about anything, anything at all, we could talk.  Is that
still a promise?”
 
“Of course it is,” he replied automatically.
 
“Then I want to talk to you about this,” she said softly, wiping tears away. 
“Not just have you telling me ‘no’ all the time.  I want to say things, and I
want you to listen, and I want you to tell me what you really feel, instead of
just blocking everything out. Can we do that?”
 
He had made that promise.  And I have to keep it.
 
“Okay, kiddo,” he said. “We’ll talk.  Over breakfast.  Fully dressed.”  He
realised his eyes had not left her body once.  “We don’t need the distraction.”
 
She nodded.  “That’s fair.”  Reaching under the pillow, she retrieved the t-
shirt she normally slept in. It took her a little more scouting under the
covers to find her loose panties.  Watchng her moving about on the bed,
twisting and turning, her small breasts stretching into interesting shapes,
Danny found his arousal returning in almost embarrassing proportions.  Sliding
off the bed, she walked from the room, not bothering to dress.
 
He watched her all the way, then looked down at his rampant erection.
 
“I guess it’ll be a cold shower today, then,” he sighed.
 
***
 
The cold shower didn’t help as much as he had hoped.  Sitting at the table over
breakfast, he eyed her t-shirt and jeans, and could easily recall the slender
young body with which he had given – and taken – so much pleasure the night
before.  He was already half-hard, just looking at her fully clothed.
 
“So, Dad,” she said. “Let’s talk.”  There was a brittle quality to her voice,
as though she were expecting him to reject her words, treat her like a child.
 
What happens if I do that? he asked himself.  If I just reject what she says,
out of hand?

Then whatever good comes from last night ... is gone, he realised.  I will have
rejected her.  She won’t even have me to rely on.

And what will she do then?  He really, really didn’t want to know.
 
“Yes,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
 
She took a deep breath. “Last night ... I asked you to make love with me.  And
you did.  And it was beautiful.” She looked at him directly. “Tell me it
wasn’t.”
 
He shook his head helplessly.  “I can’t, Taylor.  It was ... “  He paused. 
“God forgive me, it was like having your mother back.  Just for one night.”
 
She reached across the table, took his hand.  He squeezed it tightly.
 
“Dad,” she said steadily. “You didn’t rape me.  I asked you to do it. 
I wanted it.”
 
He frowned.  “But ... you’re so young.”
 
She shook her head, smiling slightly.  “Dad, half my classmates are regularly
having sex.  All you have to do is listen to their conversations.”
 
“I didn’t need to hear that,” he said automatically.  “Far too much
information.”
 
“No, Dad,” she said. “It’s information you need to have. I’m sexually mature. 
I can have sex.  It won’t break me.”  She grinned slightly.  “I did have sex
last night ... or rather, I made love.  And it was good.  Really, really good.”
 
“You’re not ... sore?” he asked.  “Not in pain?”
 
She shook her head. “A little tender,” she admitted. “But not sore.  There was
no pain at all after you broke my hymen.”  She smiled at him.  “So tell me. 
What exactly is wrong with what we did last night?”
 
It’s just wrong.  But he knew that was the wrong answer.  He had to use logic.
 
“The chance of pregnancy, especially with a genetically damaged child?” he
said, more asking than telling.
 
“You had a vasectomy, years ago,” she reminded him.  “I heard you and Mom
talking about it once.”
 
“Okay,” he said. “How about psychological damage? This could really screw you
up.”
 
She chuckled.  “Look at me, then remember what state I was in last night, and
tell me about psychological damage.”
 
Dammit, she’s shooting all my points down before they even get in the air.
 
“It’s against the law,” he said weakly.
 
“So is going to church without a rifle,” she riposted.  “So is letting me get
on top like you did last night.  So we were breaking the law twice over.  Did
it feel wrong to you either way?”
 
He shook his head. It hadn’t.
 
“Wait,” he said. “Going to church without a rifle is against the law?”
 
She nodded.  “I read up on silly laws for this state awhile ago for a class
project, and those were two I remembered.”  She paused.  “I’m trying to make a
point here.  Laws were made for reasons, but sometimes those reasons no longer
apply.  Or were stupid to begin with, like the law that women can’t get on
top.  And okay, incest is against the law, but I can’t think of a valid reason
other than that why what we did last night was wrong.  Can you?”
 
She looked at him searchingly, trying to get a hint of what he was thinking
about.  I’m not altogether sure that what we did last night was right, she told
herself, but I’m not so sure that it was wrong, either.  It did feel so right. 
And I feel ... alive, today.  The world is brighter.  There is more beauty.

I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.
 
I just hope Dad doesn’t hate me for it.  I don’t know if I could handle that.
 
***
 
He thought about her words. He had promised that they could talk, and so he
would hold to his promise.
 
What we did last night, he thought, has had an effect on her.  She’s brighter,
sharper.  She looks happier.  She’s ... proactive. Aggressive, almost.

He thought about that. Last night, she was a shadow of herself.  When she went
up to bed, she was on autopilot.  There was no drive to her.

Today ... she’s arguing with me on the merits of incest, and winning.  Drive? 
She’s got more drive than a trainyard full of locomotives.  And then another
thought occurred to him.  But she’s trying so very hard to convince me of the
rightness of what we did, or at least, that it wasn’t wrong.

If I reject what she’s saying, it’ll be like rejecting her, that quiet little
voice inside reminded him.

That could destroy her.

Plus, I’m not altogether sure she is wrong.
 
***
 
He took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said.  “Let’s say that maybe, just maybe,
there’s some point to what you are saying.”  He smiled, and held her hand in
both of his.  “What we did last night was frowned upon, but after all that’s
been done to you, I think you’re allowed a little rule-breaking of your own.”
 
“Thanks, Dad,,” she began. “I –“
 
He held up a finger. “Not finished, kiddo,” he said gently. She shut up. 
“Now,” he continued.  “I can’t think of a single physical reason that we
shouldn’t have done that.  And I can see the result. You’re alive today, in a
way you weren’t yesterday.  For that, alone, I am truly thankful.  And,” he
cleared his throat, “yes, it was very, very special to me too.  It allowed me
to say goodbye to your mother at last.”
 
She felt tears in her eyes. “Oh, Dad ...”
 
He smiled across at her; tears were bright in his eyes as well.  “But we really
can’t do this too often,” he said, wiping at them.  “Really, we shouldn’t do it
at all.  There doesn’t appear to be any trauma from this time, but if we keep
doing it, there may end up being some sort of problem, and I really don’t want
to put that on you.”  
 
He took a deep breath. “Besides, you know how easy it is to tell two teenagers
who have started sleeping together.  They barely even know they’re putting out
signals to everyone who can see it.  If we get into the habit, we’re likely to
do that as well.  And if the wrong person gets the right idea, then I could be
in really, really deep trouble.  Because you’re fifteen, not of the age of
consent, and I took your virginity. That’s a double strike right there.”
 
She nodded soberly. “I hear what you are saying, Dad. I really do.  So we just
chalk this up to something wonderful that we never do again?”
 
“Basically,” he agreed. “It was something wonderful,” he said with a nod. 
“Something we shouldn’t have done.  But if I had it to do over again, and you
climbed into my bed, and seduced me as you did ... I’d do it again.”
 
She smiled and squeezed his hand.  “Thanks, Dad,” she said. “That means a lot
to me.”
 
***
 
They stood from the table. She helped him clear the dishes. As they washed up
together, they chatted.  This time, she held up her end of the conversation,
and even told a thoroughly filthy joke that had him laughing so hard that he
nearly dropped a dish.
 
He would have said that he had never felt so much like her father at that
point, except that when the dishes were done, she turned to him and gave him a
most un-daughterly kiss, causing his nerve endings to tingle and his penis to
stir a little in interest.
 
“Hey now,” he murmured. “I think we agreed, no signals that we’ve slept
together.”
 
She grinned at him. “This is inside the house. Besides, that was me kissing the
man who made me feel so good last night.”
 
He shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”
 
She giggled.
 
“So,” he said, trying to regain his composure, “what did you have planned for
today?”
 
“Actually,” she said. “I was thinking I want to do something good with my
body.  I’m going to start running.  Build a little muscle, lose a little fat. 
Firm things up again.”  She grinned at him.  “And then I might go shopping.  I
need to update my wardrobe.  I’ve been depressed for too long.”
 
He frowned.  “Not sure I like the idea of you running,” he said dubiously.
 
She sighed.  “I’ll carry pepper spray, okay?”  She brightened.  “Want to come
help me pick clothes out?”
 
He considered that.
 
“Yes,” he said.  “Yes, I think I do.  And we’ll get you that pepper spray at
the same time.”
 
Her hug was spontaneous and enthusiastic.  He tried not to think about the hard
little breasts pushing into his chest, and hugged her back.
 
“Come on,” he said.  “Let’s go shopping.”
 
***** Shopping Daze *****
Chapter Summary
     Taylor and Danny go to the mall, where something entirely unexpected
     happens
Danny parked the truck outside the Weymouth mall, and looked with dismay at the
crowds surging in and out of the building.
 
“Christ,” he said despairingly.  “We had to pick Christmas Eve to do our
shopping.”
 
Taylor grabbed his hand and grinned.  “Come on, Ebenezer Scrooge.  Let’s go
brave the crowds, and maybe grab each other a last-minute Christmas present
while we’re at it.  Plus, clothes.  I want to look like I feel.”
 
“And how do you feel?” he asked curiously.
 
She grinned at him. “Like a million dollars.  Because something really
wonderful happened last night.”
 
He sighed; her enthusiasm was infectious.  Not resisting all that much, he
allowed himself to be towed in among the massed crowds.
 
Herds of shoppers roamed the concourse, spooking suddenly and diving into those
shops which displayed signs like SALE! and 50% OFF FOR XMAS!  Taylor ignored
those, heading for the shops that sold the clothes she liked. Then suddenly,
she spotted something she wanted.  “Dad –“ she said.
 
He was looking in another direction.  “Taylor –“ he said.
 
They looked at each other. “I’ll be right back,” each said, at exactly the same
time.
 
***
 
Taylor entered the shop; it wasn’t one she normally went to, generally getting
her stuff at a lower quality and a much lower price.  But for this instance,
she wanted the occasion to be really special, so she went all out.  A very
nice, very discreet saleslady assisted her in making the right purchases,
picking out exactly what looked best.
 
As she exited the shop, she folded the distinctive bag and shoved it into her
handbag, so that Danny would not know what she’d gotten.
 
Picking a moment when he was looking the wrong way, she sneaked up to him. 
“I’m back,” she said into his ear.  His look of startlement was so cute.  She
wanted to drag him into a niche and do interesting things to him.
 
But no; he’d specified no public displays of affection.  Which, she had to
admit, was a really smart idea.  Because given her current feelings about him,
could get out of control.
 
“So what did you get?” he asked.  She noted that he was not showing her what he
had gotten.
 
“Sorry, Dad, it’s a secret till tomorrow.  But I think you’ll like it.”  She
grinned and grabbed his hand again.  “Come on. Clothes await.”
 
And then she saw her. Emma.  Along with Sophia and Madison.  Right in the
middle of the concourse.  She recalled the flute, lying forlornly atop the heap
of trash. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that one of them had taken
it, just to screw with her head a little more.
 
She let go her father’s hand, and marched up to Emma.  Emma was chatting to
Sophia, didn’t see her immediately.  Sophia saw her, eyes widening slightly.
 
“Emma,” she said clearly. “I want it back.  I don’t care how.  I won’t press
criminal charges.  But I do want it back.”
 
Emma stared at her. “Want what back, Hebert?  Your mom?”  There was a titter
from the girls around her, and then Danny loomed over her.
 
“That was cruel and uncalled for, Emma Barnes,” he said from right behind her. 
“I believe I will tell your father what you just said.”
 
She jumped about six inches in the air.  Taylor was still fighting down the
anger and pain that the mention of her mother had brought up.  She raised her
voice. “Sophia, Madison.  I don’t care who’s got it.  I don’t care what state
it’s in.  My mother’s flute.  I want it back.”
 
“Or what?” sneered Sophia. With an eye toward Danny, who was still glaring at
Emma, she added, “Not that I know where your stupid flute is. But just asking.”
 
Taylor looked her dead in the eye.  “Sophia,” she said.  “You do not want to
find that out.”  Her tone was flat, dead level.  She had no idea what she
meant, what sort of threat she was making, or how she was going to carry it
out, but the flinch that she got from Sophia was worth more than gold bullion.
 
Reaching out, she grabbed Danny’s hand.  “Come on,” she said.  “We’re done
here.”
 
She towed him away through the crowds; his head was still turned toward Emma;
fixing her with a glare.
 
***
 
“Uh ... Soph?” said Emma, once Mr Hebert and Taylor were out of sight.  How the
hell can  a man that tall go unseen?
 
“No,” said Sophia steadfastly.
 
“I haven’t even told you what I want.”
 
Sophia shook her head. “I know what you want.  You want to clear little Miss
Taylor’s locker out before the third.  Before school lets back in.”
 
“Well – yeah,” said Emma. “When she opens it, and there’s all that crap in
there, she’ll be able to point to me as someone who did it, and her father will
be able to back her up as a witness.”
 
Sophia sneered.  “One comment?  Not connected to her locker?  Like he’ll be
able to make that stick.”
 
Emma shook her head. “Soph, I could really get in trouble here.”
 
Sophia gave her a flat stare.  “Funny, I thought I just heard a whiner
speaking, not a survivor.”
 
Emma shut up.  But she didn’t stop worrying.
 
Sophia was also thinking.  Hebert's growing a spine at last?  I want to see how
this plays out.

***
 
“I don’t believe she said that to you,” Danny said.  “I really don’t.  I am
going to be calling Alan as soon as we get home.  Emma needs to be spoken to.”
 
Taylor nodded. “Okay, Dad,” she said.  “She said it in your hearing.  It’s not
me causing problems for her.”  She stopped and gave him a hug.
 
“What’s that for?” he asked, but he hugged her back anyway.
 
“For being here.  For hearing that.  For giving Emma a bad moment.”  She
giggled.  “The look on her face!  I’m going to treasure that moment.”
 
He didn’t look pleased. “What she said ...”
 
“Is no worse than what she’s said a hundred times before,” said Taylor
wearily.  “It’s just that, this time you heard her.”  She looked up.  “Ah, here
we are.”
 
***

Danny found himself relegate to sitting in a chair, giving critiques on the
clothes she took into the changing room and thereafter emerged wearing.  He
deliberately approved those clothes with the brightest colours, including some
summer-weight outfits which looked particularly fetching on her.  A couple of
the t-shirts looked like they would show some belly; he figured that by the
time it got warm enough to wear them, she would have firmed up her belly some.
 
She tried out the last thing, a rathe skimpy bikini, and he found himself
getting somewhat aroused; despite this reaction, or perhaps because of it, he
approved it.
 
She came over to him with her purchases, and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thanks
for that, Dad,” she said with a giggle.  “I appreciate it.”  Then she leaned in
and whispered, “And I saw how you were looking at me with the bikini.  If you
want, I can give you a very private showing at home ...”
 
He felt his throat go dry. “Um ... if you want?” he ventured.
 
She smiled widely and hugged him.  “You’re the best, Dad!” she said happily. 
Grabbing him by the hand once more, she dragged him away again.  “Let’s get
something to eat from the food court before we try to get out of here.”
 
“Good point,” he said,
 
***
 
The food court was packed, of course, but she and Danny managed to grab
themselves some food and a table.  They dropped their purchases under the table
and started eating.  Danny found himself watching Taylor.
 
She funally noticed this, and coloured slightly  “Why are you looking at me
like that, Dad?” she asked, a little self-consciously.  “Have I got something
in my teeth or something?”
 
He shook his head with a smile.  “No, kiddo,” he said fondly. “I’m just
enjoying sitting here, eating with my daughter.”  He reached out and put his
hand on hers; she froze, looking at him with a surprised expression.  
 
And then she turned her hand over and clasped his fingers with hers.  “No
more,” she said softly, “than I’m enjoying being here with my Dad.”
 
He felt a great surge of love and affection for her, and he squeezed her hand
gently.  She squeezed back.
 
Taylor felt a tap on the shoulder.  She looked around curiously; a teenage girl
with dirty blonde hair up in some sort of braid, and a knowing smile, was
standing there.
 
“Excuse please, could we borrow your salt?” asked the girl.
 
Taylor shrugged. “Sure,” she said.  
 
The girl took it, then leaned close to her ear.  “Probably shouldn’t hold hands
like that in public,” she murmured.  “Peoplr might ger the right idea.”
 
Taylor flinched, pulling her hand from Danny’s grasp.  She realised belatedly
that they had been doing just that; sitting there with silly grins plastered
across their faces,holding hands in public.  She turned to thank the girl – how
did she know about us? – but she was gone, joining three other teeens on the
way out of the food court.
 
***
 
“What was that all about, Lisa?”
 
“Nothing, Brian. Just ... that girl there, and her dad? It’s complicated, but
they’re having sex.”
 
“Kinky.”
 
“Shut up, Alec.”
 
“Should we tell the authorities?  I mean, that sort of abuse ...”
 
Lisa shook her head. “No.  She’s the one who’s initiating it.  Like I said,
it’s complicated.”
 
“Don’t see what’s complicated about it.  If they want to fuck, let ‘em fuck.”
 
Everyone looked at Rachel. She shrugged.  “What?”
 
Lisa shook her head with a slight smile.  “Never mind.”
 
“Anyway,” said Brian. “Not our problem.  And we still haven’t done our
shopping.”
 
“Don’t see why we have to.”
 
Brian sighed. “Because we’re a team, Rachel. And teams do things together.”
 
“I hate this.  Hate the crowds.  And they won’t let me bring the dogs inside.”
 
Brian and Lisa shared a glance for a second.  Bitch in this crowd, with dogs at
her disposal?  It would be frankly horrifying.
 
Alec chuckled.  “Now, that I’d like to see.  You’d clear the place out faster
than an Endbringer siren.”
 
Lisa and Brian spoke at the same time.  “Shut up, Alec.”
 
***
 
Taylor was silent all the way out to the truck.
 
Danny wasn’t quite sure what was going on in her head; the girl had taken the
salt, said something to Taylor, and her face had gone white.
 
They got into the vehicle, and sat there as the heater warmed the air inside.
 
“What happened in there?” asked Danny.  He didn’t have to specify when.
 
“That girl ...” said Taylor slowly.  “She knew. She knew what we did last
night. That we’re father and daughter, and that we’ve had sex.”
 
“Made love,” he corrected absently.
 
“Whatever,” she said impatiently.  “The fact is, she knew.”
 
“But how?” he asked.
 
She shrugged helplessly. 
 
“Could she be stalking you?” he asked.  “Looking to blackmail you?”
 
She shook her head. “Doesn’t have that vibe.  She basically warned me that we
were holding hands like a couple of lovesick teens.”
 
“And you don’t know who she was.”
 
She shook her head. “Never saw her before.”
 
He heaved a sigh. “Well, keep an eye out for her. If she starts stalking us, we
might have to go to the police.  In the meantime ...”  He didn’t have to
finish. No more sex.
 
She sighed.  “But I wanted to ...”
 
He shook his head. “Too risky.”
 
“Can I at least kiss you?”
 
He frowned and relented. “Upstairs, with the blinds drawn only.”
 
She nodded. “Okay.”  She didn’t like it, but it made sense.
 
He put the truck into gear, moved off.
 
He supposed he should feel relieved that they had an excuse to not have sex any
more.  But was he?  He couldn’t tell.
 
Taylor did not say another word all the way home.
***** Resolutions *****
Chapter Summary
     Someone knows the secret about Danny and Taylor; how will this affect
     their relationship?
The front door slammed open as Taylor pushed past Danny.  Clutching her bags to
her chest, she made for the stairs.
 
“Taylor ...” said Danny, raising one hand slightly.
 
She stopped and turned around, her eyes bright with tears.
 
“What?” she snapped.  “What?”

“I was just going to say,” ventured Danny, “that it’s not that bad.  We can
talk about this.”
 
“Talk about what?” yelled Taylor.  “I was just starting to get my life in
order, just starting to think straight, and this fucking thing happens.  And
the one good thing, the one nice thing, in my life is done, it’s gone, because
someone I’ve never seen before says one fucking thing to me, and it
overturnseverything.”

She took a deep, sobbing breath.  “Fuck it. Fuck her, fuck them, fuck
everything. Fuck life.  I’m fucking done.”

Turning, she stomped up the stairs, hitting every tread with enough force to
shake the ceiling.  Disappeared around the corner. Slammed the door into her
room.
 
A moment later, he heard her voice, barely muffled by intervening walls, a wail
of anguish and anger despair and loss.  “FUUUUUCK!”

***
 
She lay on her bed, knees up to her chest, arms curled tightly about them.  She
wasn’t crying anymore; although her pillow was wet with the tears already shed,
she was all cried out.
 
She wanted to scream, rage, throw things.  She wanted to go into the bathroom
and find her father’s straight razor. She wanted to hurt someone.  She wanted
to hurt herself.
 
The one thing she had found that made life worth living again, that made her
feel beautiful, a worthwhile person, and it had been taken away from her by a
stranger in the middle of a shopping mall.
 
It was worse, this time around, because she had had something good within her
grasp, and it had been taken away.  It wasn’t hers any more.  It never had
been.
 
I can’t do that again.  I can't climb that hill again.  I've fallen too far. 
It's too much effort.  I used it all up getting here.  And now I'm back to
square one.

She closed her eyes tightly. Imagined standing in the shower. The water as hot
as it would go. Taking the razor, opening it. Touching it to her wrist under
the hot water.  Sliding it down, along the vein. The skin parting, the blood
running free.
 
Repeating with her other wrist, just to be sure.
 
She imagined the lassitude, the weariness that would come as the blood ran down
the drain.  Falling to her knees, slumping on to her side.  Her last sight
being blood mixing with water, running down the drain.
 
And then ... nothing.

No pain, no fear, no anger.  Nothing.

I’ll just ... stop.

It’ll be over.

Sure, it’ll mean that they win, but who the fuck cares?  I’m not going to win,
not against them.  Why shouldn’t I take the easy way out?

She imagined the shower scene again, and her imagination began to paint ever
more lurid pictures.  Slicing her own nipples off, or even her entire breasts. 
Cutting her cheeks open, so that the blood ran like tears. Gashing her belly,
so that her intestines spilled out on to the floor.  Tearing, slicing, hacking
between her own legs, taking away the part of her that had brought her
happiness so briefly, and then let her down so cruelly.
 
It would be so easy.
 
There was a gentle tap on the door.
 
She didn’t respond.
 
It came again.
 
She took a deep breath.  “Go away!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
 
“Taylor,” she heard from outside the door.  “Can I come in?  Please?”
 
She didn’t have the strength for another scream.  Opening her eyes, she was
almost surprised  to see that the sheets were not drenched with blood, so
deeply had she been immersed in the self-mutilation imagery.
 
Fuck it.  “Come in, Dad,” she said wearily.  I can’t fight anything anymore.

He opened the door and entered, walking quietly.
 
She stubbornly faced the wall, refused to roll over, even acknowledge his
presence.
 
"Taylor," he said gently.
 
She said nothing.  Go away.
 
"Taylor," he said again.  "I brought cookies and milk.  Would you like some?"
 
Such was the surprise at his words that she twisted her head around to stare. 
He indeed bore a tray with a pitcher of milk two glasses and a plate of cookies
upon it.
 
There were other things on the tray, but she fixated on the cookies.  They
smelled delicious.  Her traitorous stomach growled.  She started at the sound. 
"How long," she began, her voice raw, then she started again.  "How long have I
been up here?"
 
"Three hours, more or less," he said.  "I decided to make the cookies and bring
them up to you, after the first hour."
 
The pain, the love, in his face and voice were almost more than she could bear.
Carefully, she unwrapped her arms from her knees, wincing at the complaints
from joints that had been locked in.the same position for far too long.  He
placed the tray on her bedside table and assisted her in sitting upright on the
edge of the bed.  Then he sat beside her and placed the tray across his knees.
 
He poured milk from the pitcher; they both drank.  She almost groaned from
pleasure as the cold liquid hit her stomach.  He held a freshly-baked cookie
for her to eat; she nibbled at it, snapped playfully at his fingers.  It was
wonderful.
 
When the cookies were done, he put the tray aside.  "Taylor," he said softly,
"I'm going to ask you to do something for me, and I'm going to ask you to trust
me while you do it."
 
The serious tone to his voice got her attention.  "What is it, Dad?" she asked.
 
He took a pad of paper from the tray and handed it to her along with a pen. "I
want you to write down all the bad thoughts, all the bad feelings, that you've
been having over the last three hours, down on this pad.  Then I want you to
tear it off and fold it up and give it to me."
 
She stared at him, stricken.  "Dad - I -". If I do that, he'll know what I want
to do.
 
"Taylor," he said, his voice still soft, his gaze intent. "Trust me.  Please."
 
So she did it.  She took the pad and pen and sat back up on the bed, against
the headboard with the pad on her knees, and wrote.
 
Dad, she wrote, I'm really sorry that I'm going to be doing this to you, but I
see no other way out of this.  I want to die.  If I can't feel happy and
beautiful, making love to you, then I want to die ugly and sad. 

I will be taking your razor and I will be cutting my breasts off, because they
feel so good when you suck on my nipples. Then I will slash my face, because I
want to look as ugly as I feel.  Then I will slash up my pussy - she paused,
scratched that out, and wrote CUNT - and cut my guts open, so that I don't even
look like a woman any more.  Then, if I haven't died yet, I will slash my
wrists.

I'll be out of your life then, and you won't have to deal with having a
perverted slut of a daughter who wants you to shove your cock into her cunt
every night just so that she can feel like a human being.

Your daughter,

Taylor
 
Tears were running down her face as she finished.  She tore off the top few
pages, roughly folded them, and handed them to him.  She didn't know how he
would react, but if the nausea she felt when writing it was any indication, he
would be disgusted and repulsed.  His anger, his judgement, his rejection,
would only make it easier to do what she needed to do.
 
He took the folded pages.  "Thank you, Taylor," he said gravely.
 
Then he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the folded paper at one
corner. She stared, her jaw dropping open. He held it for a few seconds,
turning the paper one way and another, to make sure it had all caught, then
dropped it into the metal wastepaper can he had hooked over with one foot. 
Leaning over, he watched it burn to ashes with a look of vague interest, while
she continued to stare at him.
 
"What?" he asked mildly, turning to her.
 
"You - you burned it," she stammered.  He didn't read it!  He burned
it! exulted an inner voice.
 
"Well, yes," he agreed.  "I didn't want to read it.  I just wanted you
to write it.  Now it's written, so it's out of your head, and it's burned, so
neither of us ever has to worry about reading it."
 
He stood up, brushing cookie crumbs off of his knees.  Collecting the tray and
the pad, he went to walk to the door.  Then he stopped.  "You know, Taylor," he
said, "I don't think I got a good look at some of those clothes you tried on,
back in the store. Could you do me a favour and model some of them for me
again?". Reaching out, he pressed a packet into her hand.  "Start with this
one.". 
 
As he reached the door, he glanced back.  "Oh, and you might want to wash your
face and brush your hair; you look a fright.". A grin at her outraged look,
then the door closed behind him.
 
Hands moving slowly, as in a dream, she opened the packet.
 
It was the bikini.  The very skimpy bikini, that had aroused him so much.
 
He wants me to model it for him.

He wants to see me in it.

He wants me.

She began to tear her clothes off.
 
***
 
Danny looked up as she appeared at the top of the stairs.  He had pulled all
the blinds and turned the lights on, so that he could admire her in all her
glory as she slowly descended the steps.
 
It was not through reluctance that she took so long, but a desire to give him a
show, let him see what she had.  And every step she took, he appreciated what
he saw more and more, as evidenced by the growing bulge in his boxers.
 
She had taken the time to freshen up with a shower, brush her hair out
thoroughly, and put on just a dab of makeup.  Her hair was tied back, the
ponytail swaying out of time with her hips as she made her way down the stairs.
 
She was beautiful, and she knew it.  And it showed in her posture, the proud
angle of her jaw, and the secret smile on her face as she watched her father's
growing arousal.
 
The bikini could not be counted as clothing, especially the way she was wearing
it. Technically, it covered her.  But in reality, it acted more like
punctuation, accentuating the curves she barely had, and glorifying the ones
she did have.
 
She got to the bottom of the stairs and did her best to undulate over to him,
her hands up behind her head, elbows out, to enhance her bust.  Stopping in
front of him, she turned slowly around, running her hands down inside the
bikini bottom to cup and squeeze her buttocks, deliberately leaving the cloth
only half-covering the firm, taut flesh as she turned back to face him.
 
As she did so, she undid the bikini top and let it fall free, held up only by
her hands over her breasts.  And then she moved her hands, dropping the top,
exposing her firm, small breasts to him.
 
Leaning over, she put her hands on the back of the sofa and let him lick and
suck at her nipples, while his hands caressed her buttocks and rubbed at her
moist sex; she gasped and spread her thighs to allow him access.
 
Looking him directly in the eye, she murmured, "Take them off me, Dad."
 
He reached up, took hold of the strings binding the bikini bottom closed, and
tugged.  The knots came loose, and the flimsy scrap of cloth fell away.  She
was naked to his view, naked to his touch.  His hand went to her sex once more,
rubbed gently, spread her swollen labia. She was slick to the touch; he slid a
finger into her.  It went in easily; she bit her lip, making a noise deep in
her throat.
 
Abruptly she tugged at his boxers.  He assisted her by lifting his ass and
scooting it forward on the sofa.  Once the boxers were off, she straddled him,
reaching down to ensure his pens was on target.  It was; as he slid into her,
she sank down upon his lap with a sigh.
 
Her lips found his; they kissed hungrily.  At the same time, she began to grind
her hips in a circle, rocking them back and forth, driving herself wild with
the sensations of his penis moving within her vagina.
 
It was just as good to Danny; as she rocked and clenched and twisted, he felt
his arousal increasing tremendously, her slippery wetness doing amazing things
to his throbbing erection.  He felt his climax approaching rapidly, and grabbed
her buttocks, squeezing hard as he thrust deeply into her.
 
Her face was screwed up in an almost painful grimace as she bore down upon him,
seeking the climax that seemed just out of reach.  And then she felt his thumb
on her clitoris, and she exploded, her back arching, her breasts jutting into
his face.
 
She clenched her teeth as she climaxed, her eyes screwed shut, hissing air in
an attempt to not scream out loud.  Her stomach muscles rippled; her vaginal
canal clenched around his penis, even as Danny continued to slide in and out of
her.
 
He grunted as he reached his own orgasm, his semen jetting deep into her secret
depths. She felt the warmth blooming within her, and came again and again. And
with each spasm of ecstasy, she saw the mental pictures she had conjured
earlier, burning as her written confession had burned in the wastepaper bin.  
 
The razor reducing her womanhood to shreds.  Gone.  Slashing her belly
open.  Gone.   Cutting her face.  Gone.  Slicing her breasts off.  Gone. 
Opening her wrists up.  Gone.
 
As she shuddered through the last throes of the orgasm, with her father’s cum
still warm in her womb, she could not find, could not recall a single one of
the gory images of self-destruction, self-loathing.  They were gone.  She was
still there.
 
She slumped over her father, leaning against him as his arms went around her.
She kissed him; he returned the favour. Her breath sobbed in her throat; sweat
ran down her back.
 
“Oh god, Dad,” she said, panting.  “That was ....” she didn’t have the words.
 
“Yeah,” he agreed.  “It was.”
 
They sat in companionable silence, as his erection slowly diminished and slid
from her still-slippery vagina.
 
“Not that I’m complaining,” she murmured, “but why ...?”
 
“Why are we making love again?” he asked.  He grinned at her, and planted a
kiss on her lips.  “Well, it might have something to do with that bikini that
you were almost wearing when you came down the stairs.”
 
She nipped playfully at his nose.  “You know what I mean, Dad,” she giggled.
 
He heaved a deep sigh.  “I thought about it,” he said.  “And the more I thought
about it, the more it seemed to me that what the girl gave us was a friendly
warning to not be caught, not that we were under surveillance.”
 
She hugged him tightly.  “But what if you were wrong?” she asked.  “What if you
get in trouble for it anyway?”
 
He hugged her back.  “I thought about that, too,” he said.  “Then I thought,
fuck it.  I’d rather have you back, happy and alive, than worry for the rest of
my life over something that might never happen.”
 
She pulled back and stared at him.  “So … that was your logic?  Just … fuck
it?”
 
He nodded, a grin teasing his face.  ‘Yeah. Fuck it.”
 
For some reason, that seemed incredibly funny to her.  She started laughing,
and soon he joined in.  Naked, straddling his lap, his semen leaking out of
her, she laughed and laughed and laughed.
 
She was still giggling helplessly when he lifted her off him, got up, and
picked her up in his arms.  By the time he got to the top of the stairs, she
had her arms around his neck, kissing him.
 
He entered his bedroom, and carefully placed her on the bed.  She scooted to
the middle, then watched him climb on beside her.
 
Slowly, gently, letting him coach her, she brought him to full erection with
her mouth, tongue and lips, and hands.  And then she lay back in the posture as
old as Eve, and smiled welcomingly at him.
 
“Please, Dad,” she said very softly.  “Make love to me.”
 
And he did.
 
***** Christmas and beyond *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny and Taylor enjoy an extremely close Christmas break ...
Taylor woke up in her own bed.  She stretched luxuriantly, then rolled over and
snuggled in. She was naked, she realised, and there were sticky patches on her
body which confirmed that she and her father had gotten up to quite a bit on
the previous night.
 
She smiled as she recalled some of those bits and pieces; Dad might need a
little convincing to give with the loving, but once he let his hair down, he
did not do it by half measures.  She was still a little tender here and there,
but tender in a very nice, very loving way.
 
She wondered vaguely why he had put her to bed, and then realised that her
father was still trying to keep up some level of normality in their
relationship, and fathers and daughters did not make a practise of sleeping in
the same bed.  It was kind of sweet, in a way.  
 
She heard the shower running, and realised that he was up.  A naughty impulse
had her climbing out of bed before she really thought about it; she padded
naked to the bathroom and opened the door.
 
He was running water through his hair when she entered, so he didn’t know she
was there until she pulled aside the shower curtain and put her arms around him
from behind.
 
“Good morning, Dad,” she said softly, nuzzling up to his back.
 
He turned in her arms and put his own arms around her. His penis started rising
almost immediately, intruding between them.
 
“Merry Christmas, kiddo,” he said, and kissed her.  The sentiment may have been
banal, but the kiss was anything but.  By the time it was over, she was wet
with more than just water, and his penis was stiff and hard between them.
 
She went to her knees, his erection tracing its way up her body, between her
small breasts, to her chin.  Cupping his testicles in one hand, and slowly
working the shaft with the other, she began to suck on him, running her tongue
over his length, and then letting the first few inches slide into her mouth.
 
He groaned and leaned against the walls of the shower stall as she brought him
to a blinding orgasm, feeling his hips jerk as he shot wad after wad of cum
into his daughter’s mouth and over her face and body.
 
She grinned up at him as the shower washed the white splashes off her
skin.  “Merry Christmas, Dad,” she said with a giggle. “Was that a nice
present?”
 
“Taylor,” he said feelingly, “you are a very naughty girl, and I’m going to
bend you over and punish you for it, once I get my strength back.”
 
Taylor snuggled into his embrace.  “Don’t you mean bend me over your knee?”
 
He shook his head.  “I meant what I said.”  His hand found her sex, and a
finger slid into her.  “I’m going to bend you over and punish you.”  She gasped
as his finger slid in and out of her slippery vulva, sending waves of pleasure
through her.  “Over and over again.”
 
She moaned and clutched at his back.  “Do it now,” she breathed.  “Here, in the
shower.”
 
He shook his head, and grinned.  “Punishment is all about anticipation.” 
Deliberately, he took his finger out of her.  “Now I’m just going to let you
suffer for a while.”
 
“Dad!” she complained.  ‘You’re mean!”

“Never said I wasn’t,” he agreed, stepping out of the shower and grabbing his
towel.  “Don’t take too long.  Breakfast will be on the table soon, and then we
can open the presents.”
 
 “Okay, Dad.”  She grinned.  I’m definitely looking forward to opening the
presents.

***
 
Given that it was Christmas Day, both of them were wearing bathrobes when they
sat down to breakfast.  Taylor's hair was brushed out and tied back, and she
seemed once more to be wearing makeup.  

He was puzzled; he knew for a fact that her scandalously-skimpy bikini was
still lying on the floor in front of the sofa where it had been discarded
during their love play the previous evening.  And she hadn't bought two bikinis
of that type, he was sure.  What is she up to?
 
He shrugged.  Maybe I'm overthinking things. Maybe she just wants to look good
for me.  

But he could not be sure.
 
***
 
When breakfast was over, they went and sat by the small tree.  Putting the
presents under it seemed like a silly little Christmas tradition to have, but
it kept them together as a family.
 
Taylor reached under the tree and pulled out a large rectangular parcel, which
she handed to her father.  He read the label - To Dad, from Taylor and Mom -
and his eyes filled with tears.  He hugged her silently; they never spoke of
it, but at least one present every Christmas had her mother's name on it, to
keep her alive in their memories.
 
When he opened the present, he hugged her again; it was the Definitive Guide to
the History of Brockton Bay and Its Environs that he had been looking for, for
some months now.
 
"Thank you, Taylor," he said.  "I really appreciate it."
 
She grinned at him, leaning into the hug. "I love you, Dad," she said fondly,
and somehow it meant more to him than all the times she had gasped it out while
they were frantically coupling in his bed.
 
"I love you too, kiddo," he said, and handed her a package of her own
 
She opened it, noting that her mother had also had a hand in getting this
parcel to her, and discovered that she was the owner of a brand new top-of-the-
line electronic tablet.
 
"Oh wow, Dad," she sad.  "This is so cool.". She turned around and hugged him,
giving him a real father-daughter kiss on the cheek, as befitted the occasion. 
He held her tightly, just for the moment enjoying having his daughter and not
his lover in his arms.
 
Other presents changed hands; he had gotten her a brightly coloured sundress
when she was not looking, and she had found him an authentic-looking pocket
watch in a second-hand store.  She was so enchanted with the sundress that she
disappeared into the kitchen to put it on, leaving him scratching his head at
her newfound modesty.
 
When she returned, he had two last parcels in hand. "One of these is for me,
and one is for you," he said solemnly.  "Let's just say, it's a matching pair."
 
Curious, she opened hers, to find a mobile phone. Frowning, she looked from it
to the identical model that he held.  "Dad, I thought you didn't like these
things," she said.
 
"I don't," he said bluntly.  "But ... I worry about you, running on your own.
So I got you that.  It's got my number on speed dial, and all other numbers
blocked.  Mine is set up the same way for yours."
 
She put her hand over his.  "Wow, Dad," she said softly. "That's so sweet.".
She smiled and kissed him firmly on the lips, then stood up.  "Want to see my
last present for you?"
 
His mouth suddenly dry, he nodded.
 
Taking the hem of the sundress in both hands, she drew it over her head. 
Underneath it ... he gasped.  
 
"Victoria's Secret," she explained with a grin. "Pricey, but from the look on
your face ... definitely worth it."
 
He couldn't keep his eyes off of her as she slowly turned for his viewing
pleasure.  The bikini, yesterday, had made her look sexy and slutty in a very
arousing manner, but this underwear made her look stunning.  It enhanced her
natural assets in a way that only plastic surgery could better, and he felt a
surge of blood to his loins.  
 
She wore a bra and panties made from the sheerest material he could imagine;
when she spread her thighs, he could clearly see her distended labia pressing
at the flimsy garment.  Her nipples, swollen and excited, were equally visible,
and for the first time ever, she actually had a cleavage.  The suspender belt
and stockings were just an added fillip; somehow, they made her look insanely
sexy and appealing, without any one reason that he could point to.
 
She looked down at him, and at his erection, which was beginning to show from
under his bathrobe.  "Daddy," she said softly, "I'm ready for my punishment
now."
 
***
 
She clung to the end of the sofa, grunting as he drove his hard penis deep into
her soft slippery wetness.  This was the roughest he had been with her, and it
struck sparks off of her clitoris and her nipples.  This wasn't making love,
she decided, in between the waves of sheer pleasure. This was just fucking. 
Little in the way of foreplay or tenderness or gentleness; just hardcore,
raunchy bend-me-over-the-sofa sex.
 
She was still trying to decide whether she preferred it gentle or rough when
her orgasm took her by surprise; she cried out as the pleasure sleeted through
her.  Her father was not far behind; even as her vaginal canal gripped and
squeezed him, she could feel him going into the vinegar strokes.
 
And then there was a knock on the door.
 
Even if he had been able to want to stop, there was no way in hell that was
happening.    Gripping her hips even more tightly, he drove his penis deep into
her over and over again, then exploded, jetting his cum deep inside her. She
came again, biting her lip to keep herself quiet; only a whimper escaped her
his time.
 
The knock came again, as he pulled out of her. "Coming," he called raggedly,
then grabbed up her sundress and thrust it at her.  Kicking the discarded
underwear under the sofa, she wriggled into it.
 
Pulling his bathrobe shut - and thanking God that he had not discarded it - he
approached the door.  "Who is it?" he called out.  Behind him, Taylor pulled
the dress down over her hips and dropped on to the sofa.
 
"I's the Morrisons, Mr Hebert," came the reply.  "From two doors down? We were
walking past, heard a noise. Is everything all right?"
 
"Well, yes," he replied, finally getting his belt tied.  He opened the door. "I
gave Taylor a tablet for Christmas.  She's wanted one for months. You know how
teenage girls can get."
 
The Morrisons, an elderly couple in their sixties, peered in through the door,
at where Taylor was sitting demurely on the sofa, tablet in hand.  She gave
them a broad smile.  "It's wonderful," she said.  "I'm sorry if I startled you;
I got a little carried away."
 
"Oh, that's all right," said Henry Morrison. He turned to his wife, who was
more than just a little bit of a busybody.  "See, Florence?  I told you there
was nothing to worry about."
 
Danny realised that a large bead of sweat was rolling down his temple; he hoped
devoutly that they would not notice.
 
Florence Morrison stared at Danny suspiciously and opened her mouth to say
something.
 
"Would you like to come in for some tea?" asked Taylor brightly.
 
"No, no, that's just fine," said Henry. "Come along now, Florence. We've
imposed on them enough already.". He started back down the steps; after a
moment, she followed.
 
"Come over any time!" called Danny. "And thanks for watching out for us!"
 
Not waiting for an answer, he closed the door carefully and leaned on it.
 
Taylor got up from the sofa, came over to where he stood, and embraced him; he
hugged her back.  They were both shaking, he realised.
 
"That was far too close," he said feelingly.  She didn't answer, but her head
moved in a nodding motion against his chest.
 
"I think ..." she said after a while, "... that it might be an idea to ease
back on the sex.  Just a bit.  Just in case."
 
He nodded, and kissed the top of her head. He smiled.  "You were wonderful," he
said.  "Inviting them in like that.  How did you know it would work?"
 
She snuggled into his embrace. "Reverse psychology.  I could see Mr Morrison
was uncomfortable and wanted to go.  So I gave him a choice, and he took the
one he wanted.  And Mrs Morrison would have decided we had something to hide if
we just asked her to go away, so ..."
 
He nodded.  "So you defused it by asking her to stay.  Nicely done."
 
She grinned up at him, then kissed him on the lips.  "Well, I'm going to go
shower and change, then go for a run with my nice new phone.  Getting out and
about will give the Morrisons of the world less to gossip about."
 
He nodded seriously.  "And we'd better watch the kissing and fondling thing in
public as well.  We only need to slip up once."
 
"Yeah," she agreed.  She kissed him again and headed for the stairs.  He
noticed the large wet patch on her buttocks, where the semen leaking from her
vagina had soaked through the thin cloth.
 
That might have been a little hard to explain away, he told himself.
 
We got away with it. This time.
 
As Taylor showered, he cleaned up the living room; all underwear, all wrapping
paper, everything that didn't belong.
 
We're just going to have to be good for a while.
 
***
 
They continued to make love off and on over the rest of the Christmas break. 
But they were very circumspect about it; they only ever did it upstairs, in his
bed (or once, spectacularly, in the shower) and only after dark, with the
blinds drawn.  Taylor stopped walking around in a state of undress, and they
actually managed to reconstruct a life as father and daughter.  She even slept
in her bed every night, even after making love with him in his.
 
Of course, some things were different, and they had to be careful not to go
with their impulses. Once, at the shop, he stopped himself mere seconds before
he would have caressed her butt in front of everyone there. And she had to stop
herself from giving him full-lip kisses when in public; a mere peck on the
cheek was all she could do.
 
***
 
But on the evening of the second, with school beginning again on the third, he
could tell that she was becoming more and more tense and unhappy.  He tried to
talk to her about it; her replies were monosyllabic and uncommunicative.
 
He was just preparing for bed when she appeared in the doorway.  She was naked
except for the bikini pants.  “Dad,” she said softly, “could you come to my
room, please?  I have a problem.”
 
She walked away without another word; he followed her to her room.
 
When they reached her room, she faced him directly.  “I don’t want to sleep
alone, Dad,” she said.  “Not tonight.  I want you to hold me and make love to
me, as gently or roughly as you want.  I want to feel you  inside me, feel your
arms around me.”
 
He put his arms around her. “Taylor,” he said gently, “you know we have a rule
that you can’t sleep in my bed.”
 
She embraced him in return. “I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I want you
to sleep in mine.”
 
He paused.  “That’s a bit ... dodgy.”  He frowned.  “Evading the spirit of the
rule.”
 
“Dad.”  Her voice was near tears, the side of her face pressed against his
chest.  “You’re all that’s letting me even face the idea of going back to
school tomorrow without screaming.  Please.  Be with me tonight.”  
 
She looked up at him; the tears were bright in her eyes.  “Tonight I’m not your
daughter.  I’m not Mom, either.  I’m just someone who desperately needs to be
held, and to be made love to, or fucked, whichever you want to do.  Just do it
to me, until we can’t do it any more.”
 
The pain in her voice wounded him to the core.  “Of course, Taylor,” he said,
holding her close.  “Of course I’ll sleep in your bed and hold you.”
 
She smiled wanly, and plucked at the strings on her bikini bottom.  They came
loose; she was naked before him.   His boxers joined them on the floor.
 
Together, they climbed into her bed.
 
***
 
He made love to her four times that evening, surprising even himself.  She
invited him to try any techniques or positions they had not attempted before;
they reprised doggy-style, and while he was there, she suggested that they
attempt anal.  It did not go well, even with lube, so they gave it up as a bad
idea, and went back to ordinary (or not so ordinary) vaginal sex.
 
She fell asleep before he did, and he wondered if he should sneak back to his
own bed anyway.  But when he attempted to ease out from under her arm, she
whimpered and tightened her grip.  So there he was, for the night.
 
He woke up once, on his back; she was astride him, fully impaled, riding him
hard.  He gasped her name; she did not answer.  He did not try again, as his
fifth climax of the night seized him and nearly took the top of his head off. 
She seemed to come to orgasm as well, for she slumped down over him, eyes
closed, and snuggled up to him once more.  He put his arms around her and held
her tightly.  As far as he could tell, she’d been asleep the whole time.
 
***
 
Taylor woke up; it was dark, and she was on her back with her legs open.  Her
father was on top of her, his penis sliding in and out of her wet slippery
vagina.  The sensations were indescribable.  She moaned his name; he did not
respond.  He slid his penis into her, over and over again, until she came
repeatedly.  His penis erupted, deep inside her, and she grunted as he thrust
hard into her, his orgasm spraying semen into her womb.  As he rolled to the
side, his penis slipping from her, he began to snore.  
 
Was he asleep that whole time? she asked herself, mind still buzzing from the
orgasm.  Wow, I’m going to have to do that more often.
 
***
 
The next time she woke up, it was daylight, and he was just rolling out of
bed.  She didn’t feel like moving; she had enjoyed the previous night so very
much, and she wanted to enjoy that feeling some more.
 
“Dad? she said, as he reached the door, not bothering to retrieve his boxers.
 
“Yes, Taylor?” he asked, turning to face her.
 
“Thanks,” she said softly. “For everything.  It helped.  Really.”
 
He smiled.  “That’s good, kiddo.  I’m going to go shower, then put breakfast
on.”
 
She grinned back, and stretched.  “I think I might skip my run today.  I had
enough exercise last night.”
 
He chuckled.  “You and me both, kiddo.  You and me both.”
 
***
 
He looked around as the bathroom door opened and closed.  Taylor stood there,
watching him dry himself.  She was totally naked.
 
“You want the shower?” he asked.
 
“No,” she said, stepping forward.  “I want you.”
 
She went to her knees and began to perform fellatio on him; he came to full
erection very quickly.
 
“You know this is against the rules,” he said, even as he lifted her on to the
wash basin bench.
 
“Fuck the rules,” she said crudely.  “I just want to do this one more time
before I go to school.”  She opened her legs wide, allowing him to slide into
her.  He held her buttocks, as she dug her nails into his back and kissed him
passionately.  
 
He was actually rather surprised at his ability to do it one more time, after
the night of passion they had just shared.  But he thrust in between her
swollen labia, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, and together they
came to a tumultuous climax that nearly brought the bathroom down around their
ears.
 
Weak and shaking, she clung to him.  “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered. “I needed
that.”
 
His knees were equally shaky. “I think I did too,” he replied with a weak
grin.  “Now it’s time you had your shower, young lady.”
 
She looked down and grinned. “Well, unless you want to get in there with me,
you’re going to have to take it out before I can.”
 
He also looked down, chuckled self-consciously, and let his deflating penis
slide out of her.
 
“Get in the shower, kiddo,” he said, slapping her on the butt as she slid off
the bench.
 
“Yes, Dad,” she grinned.
 
***
 
She was still feeling relaxed and happy while she was getting ready for
school.  He noticed this, and commented on it.
 
She grinned at him.  “Do what you did to me last night and this morning, Dad,
and I’ll be relaxed and happy all week.”
 
They shared a fatherly/daughterly hug and kiss before he went off to work, and
she went off to catch the bus for school.  She had her phone in her back
pocket; not that she thought she’d need it, but it was something he got for her
because he cared, and so she carried it.
 
As she watched the scenery pass her by on the way to Winslow, she thought about
the fears and apprehensions that were bothering her.
 
I wouldn’t worry about it, she told herself.  Nothing’s probably going to
happen anyway.
***** The Locker Incident *****
Chapter Summary
     What happened at the time of the locker incident, from several
     perspectives
3:17 PM
 
Director Emily Piggot of the Parahuman Response Teams steepled her fingers and
observed the armoured man sitting on the other side of the desk.
 
"I understand there was an incident at Winslow High School this morning," she
said to him.  "I’ll have your verbal report now."
 
Armsmaster cleared his throat.  "We received a report at eight forty-five this
morning, regarding criminal cape activity at Winslow."
 
"Shadow Stalker's school," Piggot put in, to show she was following matters.
 
Armsmaster nodded.  "We attended the location.  The first suspicious thing we
found was a vehicle crashed into one of the school gates.  The driver was
nowhere around, but there was evidence suggesting that he had suffered a head
injury in the accident.  Running the plates gave us the name Daniel Hebert."
 
***
 
8:35 AM
 
Danny Hebert tapped at the keys of his computer, and frowned.  More paperwork
screwups, all done before the Christmas break, all coming to his attention
now.  He sighed. If they'd just paid attention to what they were doing, rather
than watching the clock ...
 
But done was done.  The screwups had happened, and fixing them was his job.
 
A beeping from his pocket made him frown again.  Taylor? He didn't like.mobile
phones; one had featured rather too closely in his wife's death.  But since
Taylor was going to be running in the mornings, he had gotten her one, so she
could call him if she needed help.  Reluctantly he had gotten himself one, a
throwaway with prepaid credit, blocked to all numbers but Taylor's.
 
He fished the phone from his pocket, accidentally dropped it, bent down to pick
it up, and finally opened it.  Pressing the green button, he held the device to
his ear. "Taylor?" he said. "Shouldn't you be in class?"
 
"Daaaad!" she screamed, so loudly that he had to hold the phone away from his
ear.  "Dad!  Help me, oh god, help me, please!"
 
She was sobbing and retching, and in the background, he could hear a metallic
banging.
 
He was on his feet in an instant, phone pressed tightly to his ear.  She
sounded hysterical, panicked, terrified.  "Taylor!  I'm coming! Where are you?"
 
"Locker!" she sobbed.  "Oh god Dad, get me out get me out get me OUTTTTTTTT!"
 
More crashing and banging, and suddenly there was a loud thump as if the phone
had been dropped.  Distantly he heard her panicked babbling, more retching, and
much louder banging.
 
Taylor.  Oh my god, Taylor.

"I'm coming!" he shouted into the phone as loudly as he could, in the hope that
she would hear him.  "I'm coming!  Just hold on!"
 
Leaving the phone open, he dropped it into his pocket, and dashed from his
office.  The people in the outer office, startled by the shouting, stared at
him as he ran through.
 
"Mr Hebert ...?" ventured one of them. 
 
"No time!" he shouted.  "Family emergency!". Crashing out through the outer
door, he sprinted for his truck, feeling for his keys at the same time.
 
The old engine caught first time, and he crashed it into gear.  Still putting
on his seat belt, he made the old truck roar as he accelerated for the road.
 
Taylor. ....  Oh god, what have they done to you?
 
***
 
3:19 PM
 
"We entered the school, and found everything in an uproar," continued
Armsmaster imperturbably.  " A school locker had been vandalised, the door
pried open.  The smell was quite bad; biological waste had been packed into it
and was now strewn across the floor. The cleaning staff were attempting to deal
with the mess, but hadn't done very much with it.  Subsequent examination of
records revealed that the locker had been assigned to one Taylor Hebert. 
Daniel Hebert's daughter," he added unnecessarily.
 
He paused.  "In among the biological waste," he added, not going into details
as to what the waste consisted of, "we found one interesting item.". He
indicated one of the two bagged objects on the desk   They both looked at it;
it was a flute, which had been quite badly damaged, and had some vile-looking
material smeared all over it.
 
"Now, what do you suppose that signifies?" pondered the Director.
 
"Ma'am, I have no idea," confessed Armsmaster. "I think we're going to have to
ask Taylor Hebert."
 
***

8:24 AM
 
The bell was due to ring any minute now, and Taylor would have to go into
class.  First day back from Christmas Break.
 
She’d been loitering in the bathroom; despite her brave face at standing up to
Emma and the others in the Weymouth mall, she really didn’t want to confront
them again this soon.  But she had to get her stuff out of her locker, and so
...
 
Approaching her locker, she saw several other students hanging around.  She
hoped that it was just her imagination that made it seem that they were
watching her. Just get my books and go.
 
There was a smell.  A really bad smell.  And it seemed to be hanging around her
locker.
 
She started getting a really bad feeling about this.  But she had to see.
 
What have they done?
 
She couldn't just back away, couldn't walk into class without her books. 
Besides, this was the new, confident, strong Taylor.  A bad smell can’t
stop me.
 
She spun the combination lock, opened the locker.
 
The stench rolled out at her, enveloped her, suffocated her.
 
The locker was half full of … oh my god, tampons and pads.   All blackened with
semi-dried, rotted blood. Insects crawled in among them.
 
The smell was indescribable.  She couldn't breathe.  She couldn't think. 
Everything in her locker was ruined.  Involuntarily, she bent over to retch, to
throw up.
 
And then she felt a shove, propelling her into the locker, into the filth.  She
felt it wrap around her legs, oozing, insect crawling, as she slammed into the
back wall of the locker.
 
The door slammed behind her, cutting off the light. She heard excited voices
outside, then the whirr of the combination lock being spun.  She turned around
in the tight confines, still retching, shoved at the door.  It was locked.
 
She was shut in with the filth.
 
She drew a deep breath, vomited all over herself, warm puke all down her
front.  Drew another breath.  “Let me out!” she tried to scream. It came out as
a strangled gargle. She cleared her throat, clawed vomitus from her mouth with
her fingers, screamed again.  “LET ME OUT!”
 
Dim laughter from outside.
 
She banged at the locker door, her thoughts spiralling toward panic.  The
smell, the insects, the darkness.
 
“Oh god oh god let me out please please please!” she screamed, the begging tone
evident in her voice.
 
She threw up again.  It did not appreciably change the smell in the locker.
 
Oozing, sticky biological waste surged around her thighs.  Insects, disturbed
by the movement, crawled out of the pile and up her body, up the sides of the
locker, into her hair, running across her face.
 
She screamed, pounded on the door, threw herself at the sides of the locker,
clawed at her own face and eyes.
 
More cruel laughter from outside.
 
The bell rang.
 
Maybe they’ll let me out now.
 
But they didn’t.
 
They left her there.
 
Screaming, retching, struggling, banging on the door, throwing herself around
inside the locker, she tried to get out. Failed.  Her mind started spiralling
in tighter and tighter turns, toward madness.
 
She recalled the phone Dad had given her. It was in her back pocket.  She
clawed for it.  Found it.  Nearly dropped it.  Slumped against the side of the
locker, clawed it open, pressed dial.  Only one number.
 
It rang.  She sobbed, retched again.
 
And rang.  Dad, Dad, answer me, Dad.
 
His voice.  Normal, vaguely annoyed.  The most wonderful, wonderful sound in
the world.
 
"Taylor? Shouldn't you be in class?"
 
"Daaaad!" she screamed, so loudly that her voice reverberated inside the
locker.  "Dad! Help me, oh god, help me, please!"
 
She sobbed and retched, and kicked at the locker door.
 
"Taylor!  I'm coming!  Where are you?"
 
"Locker!" she sobbed.  "Oh god Dad, get me out get me out get me OUTTTTTTTT!"
An insect ran over her eyeball; she screamed and flinched her whole body; the
phone dropped out of her vomit-slick hand, into the ... stuff.
 
She didn’t want to delve her hand into that stuff.  The very thought made her
retch again.  She could vaguely hear his voice, tinny, distant.  Couldn’t hear
what he was saying.  Reached for the phone.  Accidentally pushed it farther
down into the mess.  Lost touch with it.
 
“Dad!” she screamed, banging at the locker door. “Help me!  Oh god, get me out
of here!”  She plunged her hands into the stinking mess, searching for the
phone.  It was her only lifeline, her only hope.  I have to find it.
 
***
 
8:37 AM

Danny weaved through traffic, foot flat to the floorboards, intent on only one
thing.  I have to get to Taylor. The heel of his hand blared the horn,
startling other drivers out of the way.  The engine of the old truck, unused to
such demands, still responded gamely, even as the temperature needle crept into
the red.
 
***
 
3:20 PM

"It was at this point," continued Armsmaster, "that we received a police report
about an incident involving a vehicle matching the description of the one
belonging to Daniel Hebert."
 
***
 
8:38:23 AM
 
Taylor scrabbled frantically through the horrid detritus, sobbing and
retching.  I have to find it.
 
***
 
Danny downshifted, powered through a gap.  Saw lights up ahead.  Stay green, he
prayed.  I have to get to Taylor.
 
***
 
The world went away.
 
Taylor and Danny hung in the void, side by side.
 
Around them, the vastness of empty space.  In the far, far distance, stars and
what may have been planets.  Nearer, great bloated forms undulated through the
cosmos.  Something like worms, something like whales, quite unlike either. 
They brushed together, shedding bright spicules of matter, fragments, shards.
 
One of these ranged toward where Danny and Taylor hung, barely aware of each
other, unable to speak, unable to even comprehend fully what was happening.  It
cracked, split, came apart.  One fragment daggered into Danny, the other into
Taylor.
 
***
 
The world came back.
 
Taylor was still trapped in the locker, still assaulted by that horrifying
stench, still had bugs crawling over her.  She was panicked, terrified,
nauseated, overwhelmed.  But in the small part of her brain that still had the
capacity for rational thought, she knew where her phone was.
 
Plunging her hand into the muck, she closed her fingers over it, clung to it
like a lifeline.
 
Dad's coming.
 
***
 
Danny was still in the cab of his truck, horn blaring, engine thundering. 
Ahead, the lights turned red.  The intersection rushed toward him.  He wasn't
even really aware of making the decision not to slow down, not to stop. I have
to save my little girl.
 
He rocketed into the intersection.
 
At the same time, a semi-truck, which had been downshifting for the red,
changed up and accelerated.  Danny was right in his path.  There was not a
thing either one of them could do.
 
He saw it coming from the corner of his eye, knew he was dead.
 
His last thought was one of simple regret.
 
I’ll never see Taylor grow up now.
 
***
 
The driver of the semi-truck slammed on his brakes.  He knew it wouldn't do a
damn bit of good, but he tried anyway.
 
In the instant before he would have ploughed into the driver's side of the
pickup truck, it disappeared in a cloud of brownish-purple smoke.  Which his
truck blasted right through.  No tearing crunch.  No impact at all.  There was
just the dissipating cloud of smoke.
 
The truck driver pulled over, put his face in his hands, and shook.  After a
while, he pulled out his phone and dialled the police.  They should know about
this, he figured.  Besides, he wan't up to driving a Dodgem car, right at that
moment. 
 
***
 
Danny became aware of ticking and creaking. He could also hear Taylor's voice,
tinny and far away, calling for him.  He was slumped over the steering wheel of
his truck, the engine stopped or stalled.  There was a massive star in the
windshield directly in front of him, with a little blood smeared around it. His
left knee ached abominably. He couldn't see out of his right eye at all, and
his left was fuzzy.  He had no idea where his glasses were.
 
I have to get to Taylor.  I have to save her.

He wrenched the truck door open, half-fell out, climbed painfully to his feet.
 
The truck was crunched up against one of the concrete posts that held up the
gates outside Winslow High. He didn't question how he came to be there; he just
started staggering toward the school.
 
He must have blacked out for a moment, because he found himself in the school
hallway, next to a row of lockers.  And Taylor's voice, hysterical and
terrified, was coming from one of them, along with loud banging.
 
"Taylor!" he shouted, stumbling over to the locker.  His head ached abominably;
he ignored it.  His fingers scrabbled at the door.  "Taylor!  I'm here! I'll
get you out!"
 
Inside the locker, she heard him.  "Dad?  Dad? DAAAAAAD!"
 
The sheer need and anguish in her voice tore his heart in two, right down the
middle.  He twirled the combination lock uselessly; he couldn't even see the
numbers.  I have to get her out.
 
Pry bar.  I have a pry bar, in the truck.  He knew exactly where it was, could
visualise it, behind the seat.  "I'll get a pry bar from the truck!" he
shouted.  "I'll be right back!"
 
He's going away.  No. He can't leave me here.
 
"Dad!  No!  Please don't go!" she screamed hysterically.
 
Danny stared at what he held in his right hand.  Must've blacked out again, he
thought dully. For he was holding the pry bar, but for the life of him, he
could not recall going to the truck and getting it out.
 
He vaguely supposed that he should be concerned.  Blackouts were not a good
thing.  But right now he had other things to worry about.  Such as getting this
door open.
 
Setting the pry bar in the door crack, he heaved.  It gave, a little.  He set
it deeper, heaved again. Abruptly, the lock gave, and the door sprang open. 
Taylor fell out, into his arms.  He clasped her tightly; she clung to him
desperately.  She stank abominably, was covered in vomit, and had small
horrible blackened things clinging to her legs and arms; his face and chest
were half covered in gore from a badly bleeding scalp wound.  Neither of them
cared; they were together.
 
***
 
3:22 PM
 
"The principal's statement indicated that Daniel and Taylor appeared in her
office in a cloud of smoke at approximately eight forty-one AM," continued
Armsmaster. "He shouted at her, swung a weapon at her, made a threat, and then
disappeared again."
 
They both looked at the other item on the desk.  A metal pry-bar, old and
scuffed.  It was also contained in a plastic bag.
 
***
 
8:41 AM
 
I'm taking this to the principal.  Give her a piece of my mind.

Danny could not recall staggering to the principal's office, half-carrying
Taylor.  But he must have, because there she was, right in front of him.  She
started up out f her chair.
 
"Mr Hebert!" she snapped.  "What is the meaning of this?"
 
A couple of the horrid items from the locker peeled from Taylor's leg, fell to
the carpet.  All of the calm, reasoned words Danny had been going to use just
went out of his head.
 
"You fucking did this!" he shouted.  "You let this happen!"
 
He brought the pry bar up and over, down on to the desk; the sharp tip smashed
through a desk calculator and embedded itself in the wood beneath.  When he let
the metal bar go, it quivered slightly, and stayed where it was.
 
"Dad ...". Taylor's voice was barely a whimper.  She bent forward and threw up
bile on the carpet.
 
"Don't worry, kiddo, I'll get you to the hospital," he promised.  He pointed
one shaking finger at the principal.  "I'll be fucking back," he promised.
 
Scooping his daughter into his arms, he turned to leave ... and found himself
stumbling in through the emergency room doors.  The nurse on duty looked up
from her crossword puzzle, her eyes widening in shock. Danny was at the end of
his strength; he crumpled to the floor, in his last extremity twisting so that
he took the impact and not Taylor.
 
He never heard the shouts of alarm, the running feet.  Never felt himself being
lifted on to a stretcher.
 
***
 
3:24 PM
 
"We checked the hospitals, of course," Armsmaster stated.  "They were checked
in under their own names.  Daniel Hebert, suffering from trauma consistent with
a car crash, Taylor with numerous minot cuts and bruises, plus infectious
materials all over her.  It's fairly obvious that she was locked into that
locker by person or persons unknown, along with the biohazard waste.  She
contacted him to get her out, and he triggered in his anxiety to reach her."
 
Director Piggot considered this.  "You will have turned over all your gathered
evidence to the police, of course.  This sort of thing is deeply disturbing."
 
He nodded. "Already done, ma'am."
 
"And the Heberts? Have you spoken to them yet?"
 
He shook his head. "We have guards on them, but he's still unconscious from his
injuries, and she's been sedated until they could assess her condition.". He
grimaced.  "They had to burn her clothes.". He paused.  "I have contacted New
Wave and asked them if Panacea can help.  She should be getting to the hospital
fairly soon, and meeting Miss Militia there. If Hebert can teleport reliably
across the city, carrying someone, even while injured, we could definitely use
him in the Protectorate."
 
The Director nodded. "Keep me informed."
 
He rose and saluted.  “Will do, ma’am.”
***** Revelations *****
Chapter Summary
     Panacea finds out about the secret, but has a secret of her own ...
Panacea met Miss Militia in the hospital corridor.
 
“Where is everyone?” she asked, keeping her voice low by habit.
 
“We’ve had the ward cleared,” Miss Militia replied.  “Daniel Hebert is a newly
triggered cape, with a head injury.  His daughter was the reason he
triggered.”  Swiftly, she filled Panacea in on the facts as she knew them.
“They’ve got him stable, but we’d really like  you to have a look at him.”
 
“I don’t do brains,” said Panacea reflexively.
 
Miss Militia shook her head.  “I’m not asking you to.  But this guy teleported
a truck halfway across the city.  And teleported himself and his daughter from
her school to here, after he got the head injury.  He could be a huge asset to
the Protectorate.”
 
Panacea nodded briefly.  “I’ll see what I can do.”  She walked into the room,
pushed aside the curtain.
 
Daniel Hebert was a tall, skinny man.  He had a splint on his left leg, and
bloodstained bandages on his head. Panacea looked at him for a long moment.  He
got injured trying to get to his daughter and save her.

He must love her very much.

She’s so lucky.
 
She laid her hands on his, and went to work.
 
***
 
Danny’s eyes fluttered open.  Where …?  He made an incoherent noise in his
throat.  Taylor. Where’s Taylor?
 
“Shh … shhh,” said a voice soothingly.  “It’s all right.”  The voice was young,
and feminine.  Not Taylor, though.
 
He knew where Taylor was, however.  She was about four yards that way.  He
rolled his head over to look in that direction.  There was a curtain there. 
Taylor was asleep or unconscious.  He had no idea how he knew that.
 
“Mr Hebert,” came the soft voice once more.  “Can you hear me?”  He turned to
look.  A hooded girl, white robes, a cross on the front.  Panacea, from New
Wave.
 
“Nggg hrrrr yng,” he mumbled.  
 
Her hand lifted his head gently, and a cup of water was held to his lips.  He
drank clumsily, but most of it went down his throat, rehydrated his parched
mouth.
 
“I can hear you,” he said, once he finished drinking.  “Thanks.  Is Taylor all
right?”
 
He thought she smiled.  “She’ll be fine.  I had to deal with you first. Do you
know what happened to you?”
 
He blinked; his hands came up reflexively to his face.  “How can I see you so
well?  Where are my glasses?”
 
“I gave you a little impromptu eye surgery,” she explained.  “I hope you don’t
mind.”
 
He shook his head.  “I guess not.  What happened?”
 
“I was hoping you could tell me,” she said gently.  “See what your memories are
like.”
 
Widower, his file said.  One daughter.  Taylor.
 
Her powers told her more; he was in reasonable health for his age, non-smoker,
non-drinker.  Not overly fit, but not inclined to put on weight.  Heightened
level of endorphins – he’s been getting a lot of sex recently, she concluded,
with just a little bit of a blush.  Lucky him.  Vasectomy, an old
surgery.  Still has all his teeth, had his appendix out years ago.  
 
No apparent brain damage that she could see.  Which was a good thing.  I don’t
do brains.  Not even for the new up-and-coming wunderkind teleporter that they
say he is.
 
“I … was at work,” he said hesitantly.  “Taylor called.  Said she was trapped
in a locker.  I started driving over there. Ran a red light.”  He stopped,
looking at her.
 
“Go on,” she said with a smile.  “I’m not here to bust you for that.”
 
He nodded. “Next thing I knew, the truck’s piled up in front of the school
gates.  I went to go in, blacked out, found myself outside her locker.  I
wanted to open it, so I got my pry-bar and opened it.  Got Taylor out, went to
the principal’s office, gave her a piece of her mind, got Taylor to the
hospital.” He frowned.  “Not sure how.  The truck was pretty beat up.”
 
She nodded.  “Mr Hebert, there’s more to it than that.”  She looked around,
gestured to Miss Militia, who was chatting to Glory Girl.  I told Vicky she’d
get bored, but she insisted on coming.
 
“What?” he asked.  He began to struggle to sit up. Is it about Taylor?  Oh my
god, Taylor!
 
“Please relax, Mr Hebert,” she urged him.  “You had a fractured skull, a
subdural haematoma and a shattered left kneecap, along with various minor
contusions.  You’ve also lost blood.  You are going to feel weak for a little
while.  Please don’t strain yourself.”
 
Miss Miltitia came straight over.  Danny grabbed Panacea’s arm.  “Is Taylor all
right?” he asked urgently.
 
“She’ll be fine,” she told him again.  “I’m just going to look in on her now.” 
She glanced at Miss Miltitia.  “His memories and mental acuity check out just
fine,” she assured the older hero.
 
Miss Militia nodded.  “Thank you, Panacea,” she said.  She sat down alongside
the bed.  “Mr Hebert – Daniel,” she said.  “Is it okay if I call you Daniel?”
 
“Danny,” he said reflexively.  “No-one ever calls me Daniel.”
 
“Danny,” she repeated.  “Well, then, do you know why I’m here to talk to you,
Danny?”
 
He frowned.  “Um … no.  Did a supervillain shut Taylor in the locker?”
 
She chuckled.  “No.  It’s more simple than that.  Do you know how you got from
the school to the hospital?”
 
His frown deepened.  “Uhhh … not really?”
 
He could see the smile stretching the scarf around her mouth.  “You have
powers, Danny.  You’re a teleporter.”
 
But he wasn’t paying attention any more.
 
***
 
Taylor felt herself gradually emerging from sleep.  She didn’t want to wake
up.  She wanted to stay down there in the nice safe soft warm darkness, where
the horror of the locker wasn’t.  She was scared that she’d just gone away from
herself for a while, and when she came back, she’d still be in the locker.
 
But she woke up anyway.  She was looking up at a blurry accoustic-tile ceiling,
and a girl in a white hooded costume, one with a red cross on the front.  She
was a little slower to recognise Panacea than Danny, because the last of the
sedatives were still clearing themselves out of her system.
 
***
 
Panacea knew that she would be more lucid in just a minute.  Her system was
strong; she was a fundamentally healthy person.
 
She gets her skinny genes from her dad; she’ll never be overweight.  Poor girl
will never get past a B-cup. She frowned. She’s fifteen, and she’s been having
a lot of sex recently.  Fresh semen still inside her, from this morning?  No
pill, no visible contraception.  Pregnant?
 
A quick check said no.  Good. I’d hate to see her ruin her life over a mistake
like this.
 
And then Taylor seemed to come into focus.
 
***
 
Where am I -?
 
And she knew, even as she posed the thought.
 
Brockton Bay General Hospital, third floor, west wing, second ward, bed 36.
 
Where’s Dad?
 
Four yards that way.
 
Alive, awake, concerned, thinking about me.
 
Aww, that’s so sweet.  I love you too, Dad.
 
The girl – Panacea, of New Wave, she recalled now – looked at her with just a
little concern as she closed her eyes again.
 
“Are you feeling all right, Miss Hebert?” she asked gently.
 
Taylor nodded.  She sat up for herself, reached out, grabbed a cup, poured
water from the plastic jug, drank.
 
“I’m fine,” she said, once she had swallowed.  “Is Dad okay?”
 
***
 
“Taylor,” said Danny, and sat up in bed.  He swung his legs over the side,
grunting in annoyance at the splint. Then he disappeared in a cloud of purple-
brown smoke.
 
***
 
Panacea jumped as purple-brown smoke billowed out of nowhere, then dissipated
to reveal Danny by Taylor’s bedside.  Taylor opened her eyes and hugged him
tightly; his arms went around her, no less tightly.
 
“Dad …” she said, her face buried in his chest.
 
“Taylor …” he replied, tears leaking from his tightly shut eyes.
 
“Dad …”
 
“Taylor …”
 
They were silent for a moment then, as Miss Militia came around the curtains to
stare at them.
 
“Damn,” she said.
 
“That was precision teleporting, right there,” said Panacea.  “Six inches
clearance in any direction.”
 
“Damn,” said Miss Militia again.
 
Danny let his grip around Taylor loosen just slightly, and he pulled back to
look at her.  “Are you all right, kiddo? Really all right?”
 
She nodded, tearfully.  “Really all right,” she said.  “Now that you’re here.”
 
“Not going anywhere,” he assured her.
 
“Uh, just so you know,” interjected Panacea, “Taylor had several cuts and
bruises and other contusions.  Also, several minor infections.  What the
hospital staff did not fix, I did.  So she’s totally healthy.”
 
“Thank you,” said Danny, his relief heartfelt.  “Thank you.”  He didn’t let go
of Taylor.
 
“And Dad?” said Taylor to Panacea.  “Is he okay?  That bandage … that splint …”
 
Panacea nodded.  “He’s fine.  I healed the injuries he took.  There was no
appreciable brain damage.”
 
“Thank you,” said Taylor.  “Really. Thank you.”
 
Panacea smiled.  “It was the least I could do. Would you like us to contact
your boyfriend for you?”
 
Taylor frowned.  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said without thinking.
 
Panacea blinked.  A few things started coming together.  Father and daughter.
Living together.  Both have had quite a lot of sex very recently. Her hand,
unobtrusively, rested on Taylor’s arm.  There’s no spermatozoa at all inside
her.  It’s just semen.  Such as a man with a vasectomy might leave.

Oh fuck, he’s molesting her.

How do I deal with this?
 
“Miss Miliitia,” she said, keeping her voice level with an effort, “could you
please take Mr Hebert for a walk, and tell him about what he needs to know?  I
need to have a talk with Miss Hebert here about come basic medical issues.”
 
Miss Militia frowned, but nodded.  “Danny,” she said, “do you drink coffee? 
There’s a machine down the hall that produces something that pretends to be the
stuff …”
 
Danny allowed himself to be led away.
 
Panaceea turned to Taylor, who was looking puzzled.  “What medical matters?”
Taylor asked.
 
Panacea lowered her voice.  “Taylor,” she said carefully.  “You can tell us. 
We can lock him up, stop him from hurting you.”
 
Taylor frowned.  “Stop who from hurting me?”
 
Panacea tilted her head at the doorway, where Danny had disappeared.  “Your
father,” she said.  “He’s forcing you to have sex with him, isn’t he?”
 
Taylor’s eyes went very wide.
 
***
 
Out in the corridor, Danny paused and almost turned back.  Miss Militia
stopped.  “Danny,” she said firmly, “Panacea said she wanted
a private conversation with your daughter.”
 
He frowned and went on.  What just frightened her?  Then he paused.  How did I
know she was frightened just then?
 
In an effort to distract himself, he turned to her.  “Sorry,” he said.  “You
were saying I’m a teleporter?  When did that happen?”
 
She smiled.  “In times of stress, Mr Hebert …”
 
***
 
“No!” whispered Taylor urgently.  “You have to understand!  He’s
not forcing me!  I asked him to!  I had to virtually force him!”  Tears welled
in her eyes.  “You don’t understand! I needed it.  I needed him.  I still do. 
He’s all I’ve got.  What we do is the only thing that keeps me sane.”
 
Panacea shook her head.  “Why?” she asked.  “How?”
 
“You know who put me in that fucking locker?” demanded Taylor, her voice rising
despite her intent to keep it quiet.  “The same three bitches who have been
making my life hell for the last two and a half years.  They’ve been bullying
me, taking my stuff, destroying it, and laughing at me.  And nothing I do
works, and they always get away with it.”  She grabbed Panacea by the arm. 
“His love is the only thing that’s keeping me going.  Please don’t tell
anyone.”
 
Panacea stared at her.  She’s like me, she thought.  
 
She feels for her father what I feel for my sister.
 
How can I condemn that?
 
Finally, she took a deep breath.  “Okay,” she said.  “But I’m going to want to
sit down with you sometime, and have a very long, very serious chat. All
right?”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”  Her smile was tremulous, but
genuine.
 
Panacea frowned.  “So you know for a fact who put you in there?” she asked.
 
Taylor fell back on the pillow, her eyes closed.  “Oh, I always know who does
it to me,” she said, her arm over her face.  “But I can never prove it, and no
matter how many times I complain, they always walk.  I have no idea why.  Maybe
someone in the faculty just hates me for some reason.”
 
“That’s terrible,” said Panacea, reaching out and taking hold of her hand. 
“What are their names?  Maybe we can pass them on to the school and ask that
something be done.”
 
Taylor sighed.  “Fat fucking lot of use that’ll do.”
 
Panacea squeezed her hand.  “I’ll go myself,” she promised.
 
Taylor chuckled.  “I’d like to see that, actually. Okay, Emma Barnes –“
 
She saw Emma, practising piano scales.  And she knew exactly where she was;
upstairs in her father’s house.
 
Wow, that’s weird, she thought.  I’ve never seen her wearing that outfit.
 
“Yes?” asked Panacea.
 
“Oh, and Madison Clements,” said Taylor.  And as she said the name,
concentrated on the person, she saw Madison curled up on a bed in a strange
bedroom – 1743 South Privet Drive, she knew without knowing how she knew –
talking on a mobile phone.  She knew exactly where Madison was.
 
That’s so weird, she thought.
 
“And the third?” pressed Panacea.
 
“Uh, Sophia Hess,” said Taylor.  Of the three, Sophia was the one she was most
scared of.  Emma could hurt her with cutting words, and Madison with cruelly
calculated pranks, but Sophia left bruises.
 
As she said the name, she saw Sophia.  In a room she didn’t recognise.  Other
figures were standing around here, but were blurry.  But she knew where the
room was.
 
She took her hand away from her eyes.  “That’s really fucking weird,” she said
out loud.
 
“What is?” asked Panacea.
 
“Sophia Hess, at this moment, is in the PRT building, downtown.  Talking to
someone.  Why is she there?”
 
Panacea stared at her, nonplussed.  “What do you mean, she’s in the PRT
building?”
 
“I mean, she’s in the fucking PRT building.  Right now.  Or I’m having the
weirdest fucking hallucination.”  Taylor knew her language was getting away
from her. “Sorry, sorry.”
 
She saw Glory Girl looking around the door, drawn by her raised voice.  “Sorry,
my bad.  Won’t happen again.”  Glory Girl frowned and  disappeared.
 
“Glory Girl,” called Panacea.  Vicky reappeared.  “Could you get Miss Militia
for me?”
 
Vicky nodded, and disappeared again.
 
***
 
Miss Militia had just talked Danny into stepping from one end of a length of
hallway to the other and back, with the characteristic clouds of quickly-
dissipating purple-brown smoke, when Glory Girl appeared at her side.  “Panacea
wants to see you,” she said quietly.
 
Miss Militia turned to Danny.  “I’ve got to –“ she began., but Danny had
already disappered.
 
“He doesn’t even make a noise when he does it,” she complained.
 
“Would you prefer something like ‘bamf’?” quipped Glory Girl.  Miss Militia
shot her a dirty look.
 
***
 
When she got back, Taylor was sitting up in bed.
 
“I’m not kidding, Dad, I swear to you!”  She was somewhat agitated, but she was
holding both his hands in hers. “She’s right there.  Talking to someone.  I can
see it as clear as I can see you!”
 
Panacea met Miss Militia at the door.  “Can you tell me if a student named
Sophia Hess has been taken to the PRT building?” she asked quietly.
 
Miss Militia paused.  “Why do you ask that?” she said carefully.
 
Panacea went to speak, then stopped.  “Just humour me, okay?”
 
Miss Militia turned away and pulled out her comm.
 
***
 
“Miss Militia to base, please respond.”
 
“Base to Miss Militia, reading you five by five.”
 
“Base, I have a location request for Shadow Stalker, repeat, Shadow Stalker.”
 
“Miss Militia, I have Shadow Stalker on base, in conference with Aegis.  Would
you like a connection?”
 
“Negative, Base.  Miss Militia, out.”
 
***
 
She turned back to Panacea.  “You're right.  She's there.  How did you know?”
 
Panacea looked at her.  “I think ... I think they both triggered.”
 
Miss Militia stared.  “Both?”
 
Panacea nodded.  “So … you have two capes on your hands.  And I think Taylor is
a Thinker, a locator.”

Miss Militia ran her fingers through her hair, looked over to where Taylor was
sitting up, holding Danny closely.  "Damn."
 
Panacea paused.  “I have a question.  Is Sophia Hess … a Ward?”
 
Miss Militia frowned.  “I can’t answer that.  If she was, it might reveal her
secret identity.”
 
“But what if she was one of the people who put Taylor in that locker?”
 
Miss Militia stared.  “Say that again.”
 
It didn’t sound any better the second time around.
***** Confessions *****
Chapter Summary
     Interesting facts come to light, and Danny and Taylor embrace who
     they are
 “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” snarled Danny, looking as angry
as Taylor had ever seen him. “One of the girls who’s been giving Taylor hell
for more than two years is a Ward, and you never picked up on it?”
 
Miss Militia looked rather embarrassed.  Panacea stood off to the side,
watching Taylor and Danny sympathetically.  Now that she knew their situation,
she could see how deep the bond was between them.
 
It’s not abuse, she understood.  It’s not a sick or twisted thing.  It’s love. 
Just … different.  And with what they’ve been through, I would hesitate to call
it wrong.
 
Vicky joined her, watching Danny confront Miss Militia with interest.
 
“What’s going on?” she asked in an undertone.  “There’s nothing else
interesting happening around here.  How come Mr Herbert’s ripping chunks off
Miss Militia?”
 
“It’s ‘Hebert’,” Amy corrected her, “and they just found that one of the girls
who shoved her in the locker was Shadow Stalker.”
 
Vicky’s eyes grew wide.  “Well, fuck,” she muttered.  “That’s a fucking turn-up
for the books.”
 
“Mr Hebert – Danny – “ said Miss Militia placatingly, “we try to give our Wards
enough leeway to have normal lives while in school, though we also try to
ensure that they can get away in order to carry out the superheroic side of
their lives without too much trouble.”
 
“So you tell the schools, she’s a Ward, don’t question any absences, and they
decide that means, give her carte blanche to bully other girls?” he shouted in
her face.  “Yeah, that’s a really smart way to let them have their normal
lives.  Did you perhaps stop to fucking think that maybe her idea of a ‘normal
life’ is to hurt people?  For fuck’s sake!”
 
Turning to Taylor, he said, “Okay, kiddo, let’s go.  I’m taking you home.”
 
Miss Militia stepped forward.  “Wait –“
 
“I’m. Fucking.  Done.  Waiting,” he snarled.  “You want me in the fucking
Protectorate?  Well, until your precious fucking Shadow Stalker is either
behind bars or fucking dead, then forget it!  Clean up your own fucking messes
for once!”
 
And purple-brown smoke billowed around them, and they were gone.
 
“Damn,” said Miss Militia.  She looked at the other two.  “For the record, I
wanted to tell him that we still had his personal effects. And Taylor’s.”
 
“Right,” said Panacea.
 
“Got it,” said Glory Girl.
 
“Never doubted it,” said Panacea.
 
“But if you want my advice …” said Glory Girl.
 
Miss Militia looked at her suspiciously.
 
“Do what he says.  Fix this shit,” said Glory Girl. 
 
Panacea nodded.  “Come down hard on Shadow Stalker and her friends.  If she’s
guilty, throw the book at her.  And then …”
 
Glory Girl nodded.  “And then go to him and very humbly ask him to reconsider.”
 
“And invite Taylor to join the Wards too, of course,” agreed Panacea.  “I doubt
very much that they’ll want to be apart.”
 
Miss Militia frowned.  “I’ll be taking that under advisement.”  She nodded at
the two of them.  “I’ll stand down the guards.  Thank you for your assistance. 
Have a good day.”
 
Amy nodded at Victoria.  “Time we went,” she said with a smile.
 
***
 
They appeared in the middle of the living room.  The purple-brown cloud
dissipated around them, and they looked around.  It was undisturbed.  Taylor
clung tightly to him; she wore hopsital-issue soft flannel pyjamas, while he
wore a classic backless hospital gown.
 
He leaned down and kissed her; she responded avidly, her tongue erotically
squirming around his.  Their shared arousal deepened; he pulled open her pyjama
top, the clips popping free. Her bare breasts were revealed beneath. He knelt
down and suckled on them; she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair.
 
Standing, he scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs.
 
“My place or yours?” he murmured.
 
She giggled.  “Drop me off in mine; I’ll meet you in yours.”
 
He did just that; by the time he had the gown off and was on the bed waiting,
she was back.  She was wearing that amazingly slutty bikini, which almost
covered her nipples and her labia.
 
“Wow,” he said.  “You look like you need a good hard fuck.”
 
She grinned at him.  “Dad,” she said, “I really need a good hard fuck.  Now,
can you do me a favour and pull something out of my head?”  She crawled on top
of him and kissed him avidly; he felt an image drifting into his mind, and he
instinctively reached out for it. A puff of purple-brown smoke, and he held the
tub of Vaseline that had been in the medicine cabinet.
 
“Really?’ he asked.
 
“Yes, really,” she said huskily.  “After what you did for me today, I really,
really want you to enjoy me in every way possible.”  She pulled the bikini
bottom down and spread her ass cheeks.  “Spread it on as thickly as you can,
Dad.”
 
He daubed it on liberally, then eased two fingers, well-lubricated, into her
ass. She moaned and gripped the sheets as his fingers invaded her, but she did
not clench up and she did not tell him to stop.
 
When her ass was as lubricated as he could make it, and his throbbing erection
was also coated in the same stuff, she lay on her back, holding her legs up and
apart. Reaching down, she held her buttocks apart so that her anal opening
gaped invitingly.
 
Getting on top, so that her legs rested on his shoulders, he placed the tip of
his penis between her buttocks, and slowly began to press into her.
 
She gasped as his head popped in through her anal sphincter, but did not ask
him to stop.  Slowly, slowly, he slid into her, watching her face for any sign
of discomfort.
 
But none came.  Inch after inch slid into her tight young asshole, until she
felt herself filled up beyond measure, and still he pushed inside her.  At
last, he came to a stop, and she felt the tickling of his pubic hair on her
labia.
 
“Oh god, Dad,” she whispered.  “You’re so fucking big in my ass.”
 
“And you’re so fucking tight,” he agreed.  Already, his cock was starting to
convulse in that way that he knew immediately presaged climax; her tight hot
ass felt so good around his penis.
 
Slowly, he drew out a little, then slid into her once more.  She gasped.  “Oh
fuck, Dad.  Oh fuck.  That’s just … oh fuck.”
 
She couldn’t believe how big, how thick, he felt inside her.  She didn’t know
if it was pleasure or pain she was feeling, or some balance of the two, but she
knew she didn’t want him to stop.
 
And he knew this.  He could feel it in her. She wanted him to do this to her.
And he so wanted to do it.
 
Another slow stroke, and a third, and then he couldn’t help it; he began to
pump in and out of her faster and faster, his hips taking over, his penis
sliding into her deeper and deeper.  She gasped and bucked under him as he
drove his cock hard into her ass and ejaculated, crying out with the force of
his orgasm.
 
She felt him cum inside her, spraying deep inside her bowels, and she was so
close. He kept sliding his penis into her, over and over, as his climax filled
her with his white cum, jetting deep within her.  And then she came herself,
grabbing a pillow and screaming into it, as an orgasm blasted from her toes to
the top of her head, nearly setting her ears on fire.
 
She felt his orgasm; he felt hers.  And they mixed, and combined, so that they
clung to each other, his cock still pumping into her ass, both still shuddering
with pleasure, until long after the last droplet of semen had been milked from
his softening penis.
 
He slid out of her and she brought her legs down to lie on the bed.  They lay
in one anothers’ arms.
 
“Oh god,” she moaned.  “Oh god.”
 
“Oh god is right," he agreed shakily.  He breathed deeply, regaining his
scattered thoughts.  "How is it?” he asked.  She knew what he meant.
 
“Sore,” she admitted.  “But oh so satisfied.”  She snuggled into his chest;
naked, sweaty and unashamed.  “I wanna do that again sometime, when it isn’t so
sore.”
 
He grinned and kissed her gently.  “We will, kiddo.  Shower?”
 
She smiled and kissed him back.  “Oh yeah. I know they bathed me, but I still
want to scrub that shit off me.”
 
***
 
“Shadow Stalker … please report to the Director’s office … Shadow Stalker …
please report to the Director’s office.”
 
“Oh, what the fuck?” Sophia snarled.  She looked at Aegis.  “Seriously? I just
got through with talking to you over the thing at the school.  Now I have to go
talk to her about it?”
 
“Hey,” said Clockblocker, leaning lazily back against a computer terminal. 
“Miss Piggy isn’t happy unless she hears about it first hand.”
 
“You shouldn’t call her that,” said Aegis reprovingly, but there was no heat in
his comment.
 
“Yeah, well,” began Clockblocker, but the rest of what he heard was lost to
Sophia as she went to change into costume.
 
She took just as long as she thought she could get away with, drawing it out,
but finally the last accessory was placed just right, and her costume had no
wrinkles in it anywhere.  So she strode out of the Wards’ area and entered the
elevator that would take her to the officer of the regional Director of the
PRT.
 
***
 
They walked out of the hospital, and Victoria scooped Amy into her arms.
 
It was fun, flying with Vicky.  She felt so safe.  Leaning against her sister’s
shoulder, she sighed.
 
“What’s up, Ames?” asked Victoria with a smile.  “That sounded sad.”
 
“I just got a reminder that some things don’t last forever.  And that I should
say some things to some people before it’s too late.”
 
“Oh?” said Vicky.  “Like what?”
 
Amy took a deep breath.  “Vicky, can you promise me that what I say next, you
won’t freak out, and you won’t tell anyone?  Especially Carol?”
 
Glory Girl looked a little worried.  “Now you’re scaring me, Ames.  What is it?
Do you have some condition?  Are your powers killing you?”
 
Amy smiled and shook her head.  “Nothing like that.  But I need you to
promise.”
 
“Okay,” said Victoria.  “I promise.”
 
Amy looked her in the eye and said, “Victoria Dallon, I am in love with you.”
 
***
 
In the shower, she washed his penis off, then sucked him to erection, and he
slid into her vagina as if he were coming home.  They made love under the
streaming water, slow and gentle and sweet, holding each other and kissing
gently, caressing, making it last.  Her orgasms were a thing of beauty,
breaking waves of pleasure that left her shaking and breathless.  
 
He felt them, and it pushed him to his own climax, blasting the both of them
with a white-hot ecstasy that only enhanced her own ongoing orgasms.  The
resultant recombination of orgasmic pleasure left them slumped on the floor of
the shower stall, semi-conscious, while his penis still pumped semen into her
soft, pulsing vaginal canal.
 
When she recovered enough to speak, she said softly, “Wow.  Fuck.  That was …”
 
He blinked groggily.  “The first time wasn’t  a fluke.”
 
She shook her head.  “It wasn’t. I’m feeling what you’re feeling. And when
we’re this close in contact, it’s pleasure as well as emotions.”
 
“God damn,” he said feelingly.  “It must be our powers.  They’ve given us a
connection.  And sex comes through that connection loud and clear.”
 
“Whatever it is,” she giggled, “I’m all in favour of it.”
 
“Me too, kiddo,” he agreed.  “Me too.”
 
His penis slid out of her with a wet plop.  She giggled and snuggled into his
embrace.
 
“You think they’ll do anything about Sophia now?” he asked idly, playing with
her nipples.
 
She grinned and kissed him.  “Oh, I think so,” she said.
 
***
 
The door to the office opened, and Shadow Stalker entered.  Director Piggot
looked up; her face registered disapproval. “While I understand that it takes
some little time to get your costume on, Miss Hess,” she said, “a little more
promptness may be in order.”  
 
“I’m sorry,” said Shadow Stalker insincerely.  Director Piggot would have to
know it was insincere, but so long as she said the words, they couldn’t fault
her on how she said it.  “What is you wanted to see me about?”
 
Director Piggot nodded off to the side, where Miss Militia flanked Armsmaster.
“Those two will explain it better than I can.  If you will?”
 
Armsmaster nodded to Miss Militia, who stepped forward.  “I interviewed Taylor
Hebert at the hospital today,” she said crisply.  “She spoke of three girls who
have been bullying her for the last two and a half years, and who are the prime
suspects for having shoved her into her locker this morning.”
 
A cold feeling rolled through Shadow Stalker.  Bluff it out, bluff it out. 
“What’s this got to do with me?” she asked, trying to strike a light tone.
 
Miss Militia looked her directly in the eye.  “Did you have anything to do with
Taylor Hebert being criminally assaulted and imprisoned in her own locker at
Winslow High, this morning?” she asked directly.
 
Sophia stared boldly back at her.  She can't see my face.  She can't see my
face, she told herself. “No,” she said flatly.
 
“That’s a lie,” said Armsmaster.
 
Sophia stared at him.  The chilly feeling intensified.  “I’m not lying!” she
blurted.
 
“I have a lie detector in my helmet,” he told her coldly.  “It says otherwise.”
 
“One more time, Sophia,” said Miss Militia implacably, “Have you been bullying
Taylor Hebert for two and a half years, and did you help lock her in her locker
this morning?”
 
Her nerve broke; she turned to shadow, darted toward the windows behind
Director Piggot’s desk.  They’ll expect me to go for the door.
 
There was a taser in Miss Militia’s hand.  She swung it, looking for a clear
shot.
 
Shadow Stalker reached the window, hit it.  A crackling buzz of electricity
surged through her.  She solidified, fell to the floor in a tangled heap.
 
Director Piggot looked dispassionately down at her as Armsmaster secured her
with specialty cuffs.  “I think we can call that a confession of guilt,” she
said blandly.  “I am going to have to thank Kid Win for installing that anti-
intruder mesh over my windows.  Though I have to admit, I thought it would
serve to keep intangible people out, rather than in.”
 
Armsmaster nodded.  “Well, I’ll go get her processed in.”  He hefted the
unconscious girl over his shoulder, and looked at Miss Militia. “You can call
the Heberts and give them the good news.”
 
She grimaced.  “I’m not looking forward to this,” she confessed.  “I hate
looking like a fool in front of anyone, and Shadow Stalker made me look like a
fool in front of Danny Hebert.”
 
“She made fools of us all,” Armsmaster reminded her, on his way out the door.
“Time to make it right.”
 
She nodded, and pulled out her phone.
 
***
 
Glory Girl and Panacea sat on a rooftop.
 
“Wait, wait, let me get this straight,” said Victoria.  “You find me sexy, and
you want to sleep with me?”  Disbelief and disquiet warred in her tone.
 
“Yes,” said Amy.  “I love you, and I want to hold you in my arms every night.” 
Her voice was patient; this was perhaps the fourth time they had gone through
this.  Victoria apparently had trouble fitting it into her worldview.
 
Victoria shook her head.  “Where did this come from?  You’re my sister,
Ames.”  You're supposed to act like it, her tone said.
 
“Only adopted,” Panacea reminded her.  “Besides, you’re smart, you’re sexy,
you’re beautiful.”  She blushed.  "I really ... I mean ... I've had the urge to
... I just want to grab you and kiss you sometimes."
 
“Ames!” protested Victoria, blushing bright red in her turn. “You did not just
say that!”
 
Amy nodded.  “I did too,” she contradicted Glory Girl.  “Besides, this is all
your fault.”
 
Vicky shook her head.  “It’s my fault you’ve got the hots for me?  How’s that?”
she asked.
 
Amy raised an eyebrow.  “Remember the first time you let your awe aura go full
blast?”
 
Victoria giggled.  “Oh yeah.  That was interesting.”
 
Amy nodded.  “That was the first time I looked at you and wanted to see what
was under your clothes, rather than just loving you as a sister.”
 
Vicky looked stunned.  “My aura?  Is that possible?”
 
Panacea shrugged.  “If it affects brain chemistry … sure.  I was young –“
loftily ignoring the fact that she was still only sixteen, “ – and your aura
hit me right between the eyes.  Made you into my ideal sexual partner.  Every
time I felt it after that, it just made me feel all the more attracted to you.”
 
Victoria put her face in her hands.  “Well, fuck,” she said, her voice slightly
muffled.
 
Panacea went to put her arm around her; Glory Girl flinched back.  “Hey –“
 
“Whoa, whoa,” said Amy.  “Just a hug.  I can still give you those, even if I’m
hot for your sexy bod.”
 
That brought a reluctant chuckle out of Victoria.  “Okay, just keep it clean,
all right?” she said.  She accepted the hug, and after a moment, leaned into
it.
 
“See?” said Amy.  “I can control myself.”
 
Vicky snorted.  “I guess.”  A pause.  “I always thought you had a crush on
Dean.”
 
Amy shook her head.  “I was jealous of him.  I wanted to be where he was. 
Especially when you two started having sex.”
 
Victoria blushed again.  “You knew about that?” she asked.
 
Amy giggled.  “Biokinetic, remember?  If I touch you, I know about things like
endorphin levels, how long since you’ve had sex, and so on.  I’m guessing Dean
uses a condom?”
 
Glory Girl nodded.  “He’s nice like that.”  She eyed Amy.  “So where do we go
from here?”
 
Amy shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I’ll keep going as we are, if you want me to.  I
love you, but I know you love Dean, and he loves you – “
 
“Well, dunno about ‘love’, but he’s great in the sack,” grinned Victoria.
 
Amy rolled her eyes.  “As I was saying, I just wanted you to know it.  If you
ever, you know, felt curious about that sort of thing.  I’m here for you.  Any
time.”
 
Victoria grinned and punched her – very lightly – on the shoulder.  “Well, I
love you too, Ames.  In a non-I-want-to-jump-your-bones way.  So we’ll keep
going on as normal, if you’re okay with that.”
 
Amy smiled.  “Just so long as you’re happy, Vicky.  That’s all I want.”
 
Victoria nodded.  Then she paused. “Actually,” she said.
 
“Actually?” asked Amy.
 
Vicky turned to look at her.  “Yeah, actually.  I’ve sometimes wondered what it
would be like to kiss a girl.  Not seriously, you know.  Just wondered. 
Because there are some damn sexy chicks out there in some damn sexy costumes.”
 
I’m sitting right next to one, thought Amy very loudly. But all she said was,
“Yes?”
 
“And I was wondering … now that you’ve confessed your undying love and all that
… if I could ask you for a favour.”  She paused.  “Just a kiss.  One kiss, is
all.  So I know what it’s like.  Nothing more, no making out, no putting your
hands anywhere they shouldn’t go.”  She gave Amy a severe stare.  “Can you
handle that?”
 
Amy felt her heart leap.  “I can,” she said, hoping her voice would not betray
her.  “Just one kiss.  I can do that.”
 
Oh my god, thought Amy. She's going to do this!  She's going to kiss me!

Vicky smiled and leaned in toward her.  

I'm straight, Vicky told herself firmly. I like boys.  But I love Amy too, and
if this helps her a little bit ...

For her, I'll do this.  Just a kiss.

I hope she appreciates what I'm doing for her.

Amy reached out, put her arms around Vicky’s neck.  They moved their heads
awkwardly, turning the same way, then Amy corrected with a giggle.  And then
their lips met.

To Amy it was wonderful, fireworks, the culmination of a thousand sweaty
nights’ clutching her pillow and wishing it was Victoria.  The warm pressure of
Victoria’s lips on hers sent bolts of sensation throughout her body.

To Victoria, it was ... different.  She had kissed boys before, but this was
unlike any of those.  Soft, yielding, inviting ... and the knowledge that it
was Amy did not disgust her; it instead added a tingle of forbidden delight.
 
And then it ended, and Amy slumped back, breathing heavily.  Oh my god, she
thought.  Oh my god.  Now I can die happy.
 
Vicky looked at her, expression unreadable.  “That … wasn’t half bad,
actually,” she said.  “You're a nice kisser.”  

Her thoughts were a little more chaotic. I think I liked that.  How could I
like kissing a girl?  And my sister?  What's wrong with me?

Amy smiled shakily.  “Any time, Vicks,” she said softly.  “Any time at all.”
 
Vicky stood, and Amy stood with her.  Vicky scooped her up in her arms.
 
“Not saying we'll ever do this again, mind,” she said, but her smile was soft
and tender.
 
Amy closed her eyes and snuggled into her sister’s embrace.
 
***
 
Taylor and Danny lay naked in his bed.  They weren’t making love at the moment,
as the last two monumental sessions had left Danny somewhat drained.  But they
embraced and murmured a quiet conversation which led nowhere, and had more to
do with the love they shared than any semantic content.
 
And then the phone downstairs rang.
 
Danny grumbled something, stood up from the bed, and disappeared in a puff of
brown and purple smoke.  A moment later, the phone stopped ringing as he
answered it.
 
Taylor lay back in bed, luxuriating in the utter bliss she was feeling.  Her
ass was still a little sore, but it was a good kind of sore.  She was out of
that locker, and her father was just a thought away.  And he loved her, and he
was definitely getting more proactive with making love.
 
She watched his boxers, discarded on the floor, disappear in a puff of smoke;
downstairs, she knew he was putting them on as he spoke on the phone.
 
Idly, she wondered where Sophia was.  To her delight and amazement, she saw the
dark-haired girl, in full costume, being carried unconscious through a corridor
within the PRT building, over someone’s shoulder.  She wore cuffs of a design
that Taylor was unfamiliar with.
 
Her father reappeared in the bedroom, his boxers still at half-mast.
 
“Guess what?” he asked with a grin.
 
“They got Sophia,” she said.
 
“How did you know?” he asked, looking surprised.
 
She grinned.  “I can see her.  She’s unconscious and handcuffed.”
 
He grinned right back.  “Miss Militia said they’ll be pressing as many charges
as they can, and would we pretty please like to come by to talk about the
charges, and about you joining the Wards and me joining the Protectorate.”
 
She smiled.  “I’d love to.” Stretching luxuriantly, she opened her thighs
invitingly.  “Quickie for the road?”  She grinned.  “After all, we have no
travel time to worry about.”
 
He nodded appreciatively.  “You have a good point.”  He let his boxers slide to
the floor once more.
 
Climbing on to the bed, he poised over her.  As she guided him into her, he
lowered his face to hers, and kissed her lovingly.  She kissed him back
passionately, bucking her pelvis up to meet his thrusts.  The waves of pleasure
quickly built into a crescendo; she was aware of only one thought.

I love my Dad.
***** Acceptance *****
Chapter Summary
     The PRT begins to find out the extent of the powers possessed by
     Danny and Taylor
Taylor kissed her father, then climbed out of bed and padded off to the
bathroom to relieve herself and wipe away the evidence of their lovemaking. 
Then she went to her room and began to dress.
 
He got up himself and dressed in a smart casual style; good trousers, slip-on
shoes, button-up shirt, sports jacket.  No tie, he
decided.  They’re asking us to attend.
 
Taylor reappeared at the bedroom door, wearing the sundress he had gifted to
her on Christmas Day.  She had on just a touch of lip gloss; all the makeup she
felt competent to apply.
 
He thought she looked sexy as hell.
 
She gave him a wry smile.  “You know, all our personal stuff and my glasses are
still in evidence lockers in the PRT?”
 
“Really?” he asked.  “Where?”
 
She leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips.  It was all that he needed.
 
Two puffs of brown-purple smoke expanded out from his hands, dissipated.  In
each hand now lay a large zip-lock bag.  One was marked PROPERTY TAYLOR HEBERT
and the other was marked PROPERTY DANIEL HEBERT.
 
Taylor took hers, opened it, took out her glasses, put them on.
 
“Well, at least they cleaned everything,” she said with satisfaction. She began
tucking everything else into her small shoulder purse.
 
Danny nodded, putting his wallet in his trouser pocket and hefting the vehicle
keys with a grin.  “You realise, we just travelled across town and got into the
house without once needing these,” he said, tapping the house key that was
appended to the keyring.
 
Taylor giggled and kissed him again.  “I love you, Dad,” she said softly.  She
looked down at the dress.  “Is this too formal?  Maybe I should have gone for
jeans and t-shirt?”
 
He stepped up close to her.  "If you were wearing jeans," he said softly, "I
wouldn't be able to do this."  He reached down and pulled her skirt up,
reaching underneath.  She was wearing her Victoria’s Secret underwear … so
very, very sheer.  He rubbed her already-wet labia through them.
 
She arched her back and gasped.  "Dad! They’re waiting on us!"
 
"I know," he whispered, kissing her hard and squeezing her breast through the
thin fabric of the dress.  She gasped, pressing against him.  "Let ‘em wait a
little longer."  He squeezed her breast again.  "No bra?  I like it."
 
She kissed him back, pushing her crotch at his rubbing hand.  Then she gasped
as he pushed aside the flimsy material and slipped a finger into her.  She was
very wet.
 
"Oh god, Dad," she moaned.  She turned away abruptly, bent over the bed, pulled
her sundress up around her waist. The dampness had soaked through her panties,
making them transparent.  He could see her distended pussy lips clearly.  "Make
love to me.  Please.  Now."

He unzipped his pants, extracted his penis, which was now quite hard.  "I
thought you'd never ask."  Pulling down her panties, he poised at the entrance
to her vagina.  "Do you want it in the pussy or ass?"
 
She looked back over her shoulder.  "I need you inside my pussy, Dad.  You can
have my ass later."  She had the top of her dress open, and was playing with
her breasts.
 
"Your wish is my command," he groaned, and started to slide his rampantly erect
penis into her soft, slick, warm vaginal canal.  She moaned, biting her lip,
trying not to make too much noise. When he was fully embedded in her, he began
to work back and forth, sliding his hard member into her over and over again.
 
They were both very turned on, so it didn't take long for him to empty out
inside her; she rubbed her clit furiously, and came a few seconds later,
screaming her orgasm into the bedcovers.
 
He pulled her panties up, and she stood up, letting her skirt fall back into
place, buttoning up her top.  He tucked himself away, and zipped up.
 
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder for just a moment, catching
her breath. “Thanks, Dad.  I needed that.”
 
“Anytime.” He lifted her chin and examined her face. “Your makeup looks
perfect. I can’t even tell that you’ve got any on.” He grinned. “You’re gonna
be beating off the Wards with a stick.  The girls as well as the boys.”
 
“Da-ad!” Taylor pulled her head away with a giggle, flushing slightly.
 
“What?” he grinned. “You're a sexy, sexy girl.” He took a deep breath. “How do
I look?”
 
She looked him over critically. He had the potential to look silly, like a
scarecrow dressed up in cast-off finery, but in point of fact, he looked quite
dapper. Smart casual was a look that worked for him.
 
“You look nice, Dad,” she said finally, and kissed him one more time. “I can’t
think of anyone I’d rather have take me to bed and make love to me all night.” 
She shouldered her small purse.  “Give me a second to clean up again, and we'll
knock ‘em dead.”
 
***
 
Hand in hand., they appeared side by side in the middle of Director Piggot’s
office. The Director, to give her credit, only gave a mild start as the purple-
brown smoke billowed up and dissipated once more.
 
“Commendably fast,” she commented.  “Thank you for accepting our invitation.”
 
Danny nodded to her.  “Director Piggot,” he acknowledged.  “Thank you for
dealing with Shadow Stalker.”
 
She made a non-commital gesture.  “It was not solely for your daughter’s
benefit, Mr Hebert.  Such a state of affairs could not be allowed to continue.
Capes have a responsibility that extends to their private lives.”
 
Miss Militia stepped forward, her hand held out.  “Danny, Taylor.  Thank you
for coming.”
 
Danny shook her hand, followed by Taylor; she had to release Danny’s left hand
to do this, and took hold of it once more thereafter.
 
“Take a seat,” invited the Director.  “I would like to hear about what you know
of your powers so far.”
 
They pulled their chairs closer together, so that they could maintain their
handclasp, and sat.
 
Both Miss Militia and Director Piggot noted the gesture, but neither commented.
 
“Well,” said Danny, “as Miss Militia probably told you, I can teleport.  I’m
guessing my normal range is about city-wide. My normal carrying load is
probably about one other adult.”
 
Director Piggot frowned.  “It says here in this report that you teleported four
miles along with a pickup truck.  Was that a fluke?”
 
Danny shook his head.  “I have no idea.  I don’t recall that.”
 
“Hm.” Director Piggot scrolled through the report, then looked up.  “Can you do
anything else?”
 
At that moment, her phone rang.  “Excuse me,” she said, and picked it up. 
“This had better be very important.  I left a message.  No calls.”
 
Neither Danny nor Taylor could hear anything apart from a high-pitched
squeaking coming from the receiver.  Piggot frowned.  “Really?” she said.  “Did
you double check?”
 
More squeaking.
 
Piggot compressed her lips together.  “Very well. Keep me informed.”
 
She put the phone down and looked at Danny and Taylor.  “It appears that your
personal effects have disappeared from the evidence lockers where they were
being stored,” she said.  “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that,
would you?”  From the tone of her voice, she expected the answer to be in the
negative.
 
“Uh, yes,” said Danny.  “I took them, earlier.”
 
Piggot stared at him.  “Took them. From a locked evidence locker, inside PRT
headquarters.  Without anyone knowing.”
 
Danny nodded.  “All I needed to know was where they were.”
 
Piggot shook her head slightly.  “All you needed to know.”  She frowned.  “And
how did you know?”
 
Taylor raised her free hand slightly.  “Uh, that would be me, Director Piggot,
ma’am.”
 
Director Piggot looked at her.  “Taylor. You’re the … locator?”
 
Taylor nodded.  “If I know what it looks like, or at least enough about it to
make it unique, I can zero in on it. Full mental image.  Exact location.”
 
Piggot spread her hands.  “And your father gets this information how?  Do you
tell him?”
 
Taylor shook her head.  “All we need is physical contact.  He gets the
information that way.”
 
Director Piggot stared.  “He reads your mind?”
 
She shook her head.  “I just give him the information he needs.  Like an email
address.  Only a lot more complicated.”
 
“And how long does this take?” asked Piggot.
 
Taylor shrugged.  “We never timed it.”  We were doing other things at the
time. “Maybe a second, maybe less?”
 
“Wait, so let me get this straight,” said Director Piggot.  “If you are given
enough information to identify something, then you can locate it, and then pass
on that location information to your father, who can go and get it.”
 
Taylor looked at Danny, who looked back at her.  “That’s about the size of it,”
he agreed.
 
Miss Militia broke in.  “This extends to people, too, doesn’t it?” she asked.
 
Taylor nodded..  “Uh, yeah,” she said.  “I always know where Dad is now, for
instance. Anyone else, I have to think about it for a second.”
 
“Which is how you  knew that Shadow Stalker was at the PRT building,” said Miss
Militia.
 
Taylor nodded.  “I couldn’t figure it out. That’s why I asked.”
 
“And what’s your range limit?” asked Director Piggot.
 
“Normally?” said Taylor.  “About city wide.  But when Dad’s holding my hand? I
can’t find one.”
 
Miss Militia and Director Piggot stared at them both.
 
“Uh, while Taylor’s holding my hand,” offered Danny, “all bets are off for my
teleporting too.  I feel much stronger, much more capable.”
 
The stare intensified.
 
“And, uh, while we’re holding hands,” said Taylor, starting to blush under the
intense scrutiny, “instead of just one thing, I can focus on a whole lot of
things at once, and bring them all up at the same time.”
 
She shut up.  Director Piggot looked at Miss Militia, who stared back at her
boss.
 
Miss Militia spoke first.  “Worldwide –“
 
“- perfect –“ put in Director Piggot.
 
“- clairvoyance,” finished Miss Militia.
 
“You have to be kidding me,” Piggot stated.
 
Taylor shrugged.  “Uh, try me?” she offered. Danny squeezed her hand; she felt
his approval as a warm rush through her chest.
 
“Okay,” said Director Piggot.  She pulled a photo out of a folder, and showed
it to Taylor.  It was a plastic bag holding what looked like a battered, nearly
destroyed flute.  “Have you ever seen this before?”
 
“Oh my god,” whispered Taylor.  “Mom’s flute.”  She blinked.  “It’s in evidence
locker seven-three-five-nine., seventy-four yards away from this position.” 
She turned to her father.  “Dad?”
 
Danny held up his hand theatrically; there was a burst of purple-brown smoke,
and he held the bagged flute.  He handed it across to Taylor, who took it,
tears welling from her eyes.  She hugged it to her chest.
 
“The girls took it from her locker at school,” Danny explained, as Taylor
seemed incapable of speech.  “They did that to it.  Taylor found it, but it was
covered in something really vile, so she went looking for a plastic bag.  Then
they took it away again, just to screw with her head a second time.  Where was
it?”
 
“In the stuff that spilled out of her locker,” said Miss Militia.  “They
apparently decided to give it back.” She stared at Danny.  “Did you
just pull it to you?”
 
Danny nodded.  “If it’s something I can carry in one hand, I don’t need to go
there.”
 
Again, Miss Militia and Director Piggot looked at each other.  Then Miss
Militia looked to Taylor.  “We have Tinkers who can repair that as good as new,
if you want,” she said gently.  “It looks like you love it very much.”
 
Taylor looked up, her eyes full of tears.  “It was Mom’s,” she said.  “Dad gave
it to me after she died.  It was the only thing left that was really her.  And
they took it, and did this to it.”  Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. 
Danny got up  from his chair, knelt in front of hers, and took her in his
arms.  She held him tightly, and buried her face in his shoulder.
 
Another silent glance passed between Miss Militia and Director Piggot, one of
perfect understanding.  There would be no plea-bargaining, no easing of the
sentence for Shadow Stalker.
 
After a minute or so, Danny sat down again, but he kept a firm hold on Taylor’s
hand. Her eyes were red, but she had the tears under control.  Using a tissue
from her purse, she blew her nose.  Once she had finished, it puffed into
purple smoke, reappeared in Danny’s hand, then puffed away again.
 
Miss Militia raised an eyebrow.  “Where did you send it?” she asked.
 
“Trash can in the kitchen, at home,” he said offhandedly.  “I know where that
is.”
 
She nodded.  “As I was saying, we could get Kid Win or Armsmaster to see if
they can repair your flute.  They are both excellent Tinkers.”
 
“If you could do that,” said Danny, “that would mean so much to both of us.” 
He cleared his throat.  “What else would you like to know?”
 
Director Piggot cleared her throat.  “You can locate people,” she said.  It was
almost a question.
 
Taylor nodded.  “I just need something to identify them.”
 
“How about a cape name, if they’re well-known enough?”
 
Taylor nodded again.  “Sure, I guess.”
 
Director Piggot took a deep breath.  “Taylor Hebert, can you tell me  the
present location of Jack Slash?”
 
Taylor blinked.  “Uh, sure,” she said. “He’s in a bed and breakfast called
Calamus Lodge, in Nebraska.”
 
Director Piggot hammered keys on her computer.  She called up a map program and
located Calamus Lodge.
 
“I can tell you which room,” Taylor offered.  Piggot didn’t even notice.  She
snatched up her phone and dialled rapidly, then spoke even more rapidly.
 
Miss Militia strolled over to stand by Taylor’s chair.  “You can locate anyone
at all?” she asked quietly.
 
Taylor shrugged.  “Sure,” she said.  “Once I’ve got enough reference points.”
 
Miss Militia nodded.  “Are the rest of the Slaughterhouse Nine there?”
 
Taylor blinked.  “I don’t know who they all are.” 
 
“Crawler?” asked Miss Militia.  
 
Taylor paused.  “Yes.”  
 
“Bonesaw?” 
 
“Yes.” 
 
“Mannequin?”  
 
“Yes.”
 
Miss Militia was staring at her in amazement.  “Does it hurt?  Is it a strain?”
she asked.
 
Taylor shook her head, and held up the hand that was gripping Danny’s.  “Not
while Dad’s with me,” she said with a wan smile.
 
Director Piggot put the phone down and smiled a very predatory smile.  “I have
just been in touch with Director Costa-Brown. She’s extremely interested in
your abilities, Taylor.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Just so long as they don’t take me away from Dad, I don’t
care,” she said.
 
Miss Militia smiled.  “I doubt there’s much danger of that,” she said with a
smile.
 
Danny raised a hand.  “Can you access missing-persons files from that computer,
Director?” he asked.
 
The Director nodded, a little taken aback.  “Certainly,” she said.  A few
keystrokes later, and the monitor was full of thumbnail-sized pictures.   She
turned the monitor around to show them.
 
Taylor got up and approached the desk; Danny followed, still holding her hand.
 
She stared at the screen.  Each face impinged on her consciousness separately,
then it seemed to fold out, become a screen in her mind.  The faces changed
slightly, then expanded until she had a whole-body view of that person.
 
“Mouse?” she asked.  Director Piggot handed it over.
 
She began to click rapidly on pictures.  When she finished, a good third of the
pictures were highlighted. “Those are all dead,” she said sadly. She pointed at
the others. “Hiding … living on the street … in South America … oh god,” she
choked.  “She’s chained up in someone’s basement, like a dog.”
 
Danny clasped her hand tightly.  “Where?” he demanded sharply.
 
“Wait!” snapped Miss Militia.  “I’m coming with you.”  She stepped forward, and
took Danny’s other hand.  Neither Danny nor Taylor argued.
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed around them, and when it dissipated, they were
gone.
 
Director Piggot looked at the highlighted pictures on her screen.
 
Damn, she thought.
 
***
 
They appeared in a cellar; Danny had instinctively ducked, as the ceiling was
low. A teenage girl, filthy and naked, was chained to a metal pipe.  The metal
cuff had worn away the skin of her ankle.
 
Two more children, one about twelve and one about ten, were also in the room,
also chained.
 
The older girl stared at them and screamed.
 
Taylor stepped forward, towing Danny with her.  “Sh-sh-sh!” she said
soothingly.  “We’re superheroes.  We’re here to get you out.”  
 
The girl stared, wide-eyed.  “You’re not wearing costumes.”
 
Taylor pointed at Miss Militia.  “She’s in the Protectorate.  We’re just
beginning.”  She bent down and looked at the chain.  “Is there a lock?”
 
“No,” said the girl dully.  “He welded them shut.”
 
“What’s his name?” asked Taylor intently.
 
“John, I think,” said the girl.  “John Brady.”
 
Taylor blinked.  A fortyish man, overweight, wearing a wife-beater, filthy
jeans.  Getting off a sofa.  Picking up a shotgun.
 
She waved to get Miss Militia’s attention, pointed at the door.  “One man,” she
whispered.  “Shotgun.”
 
Miss Militia nodded.  She knelt, and pointed an extremely efficient-looking
assault rifle at the door.
 
Danny was staring at the chains.  He concentrated.  Purple-brown fog billowed
around the chains, dissipated.  He held three ankle cuffs; the chains dragged
free.  The girl, and the two smaller ones, stared at their abraded ankles.
Danny put down the cuffs.
 
Taylor checked on John Brady again.  He was almost at the door.
 
“Dad,” she whispered.  “As soon as he opens the door, take his gun.”
 
He nodded. He understood.
 
The door burst open.  The unshaven figure stepped through.  “What do you
bitches think you –“
 
Purple-brown fog billowed around the sawn-off shotgun.  It billowed again
around Danny Hebert’s hands, and he held the shotgun.
 
“John Brady!” snapped Miss Militia.  “You are under arrest!”
 
The assault rifle changed subtly, and she fired, even before he was able to
respond. A tranquilliser dart stuck out of his neck.  He reached up, pulled it
out, then slumped to the ground.
 
“Nice disarm,” she said, rising to her feet and taking the shotgun from Danny’s
unresisting hands.
 
“Uh, thanks,” said Danny.  “It was Taylor’s idea.”  He raised an eyebrow at the
recumbent John Brady.  “Aren’t you supposed to give them a chance to
surrender?”
 
She snorted.  “This lowlife?  He’s lucky I used a dart.”
 
The older girl tugged at Taylor’s sleeve.  “Can we go home now?” she asked, her
voice full of hope and dread; hope for a positive answer, dread for a negative.
 
Taylor grinned.  “Sure you can.”  She turned to Miss Militia.  “Just by the
way, we’re in a town called Cordova, in Alabama.”  Turning back to the girl,
she said, “All I need is your parents’ names.”
 
***
 
John Brady was delivered, unconscious, to the Cordova police station.  Miss
Militia went with him, to give a statement to the police.  Three families had
joyous reunions with their lost children; they promised to contact the police
at once.
 
Miss Militia loitered in the alleyway behind the police station; only the
faintest shift in air heralded the arrival of Taylor and Danny.
 
“It does make meeting up much easier,” she commented with a smile, taking
Danny’s hand. “Let’s go.”
 
***
 
Director Piggot looked up as the smoke billowed once more, then died away.
“I’ve just dealt with a phone call from a place called Cordova, in Alabama,”
she commented.  “Was that you?”
 
Miss Militia nodded.  “A dirtbag who had three kids chained up in his cellar.” 
She turned a warm look on Taylor and Danny.  “I haven’t the words.”
 
“Very well,” said Director Piggot.  “I do.” She looked at Taylor and Danny. “I
am formally inviting you to join the Protectorate; Taylor to be joining the
Wards until her eighteenth birthday.  Do you accept?”
 
Taylor looked at Danny, who looked back at him.  They didn’t need the look. 
Each already knew what the other was thinking.
 
Danny nodded in eerie unison with Taylor.  “Thank you,” he said.
 
“We accept,” she added.
 
Miss Militia smiled behind her scarf.  “No,” she said.  “Thank you.”
 
Taylor hugged Danny, who reciprocated.  “Ready to be a superhero, kiddo?” he
asked with a grin.
 
“You bet,” she agreed.
***** Aftermath *****
Chapter Summary
     Taylor has nightmares, and is comforted by Danny. They choose
     Pathfinder and Compass Rose as their hero names.
Danny sat opposite Taylor as they ate dinner that night. "I think we did good
today, kiddo," he said.
 
She smiled at him.  "I think so, too.". Reaching across the table, she grasped
his hand.  "I love you, Dad."
 
He returned her smile.  "I love you too, Taylor."
 
"Thanks for getting me out of that locker."
 
He squeezed her hand gently. "Anytime, kiddo.  Anytime at all."
 
They stood up simultaneously, and moved into a hug. 
 
Danny Hebert held his daughter, his lover, and the person whom he valued most
of all in the world.  He would die for her; he nearly had, today, and he would
do the same again, without hesitation.  He knew that she loved him, and needed
him, desperately, and so he would stand by her.
 
Taylor Hebert held her father, her lover, and the person whom she valued most
of all in the world.  Hers was a battered and scarred soul, but he had proven
beyond any doubt that his love for her was unbending, unbreakable.  He would
stand by her forever, and thus she loved him just as strongly as he did her.
 
“Taylor ...” he began.
 
“Dad ...” she began, at the exact same moment.  
 
They shared a self-conscious chuckle.
 
“You first,” she said, snuggling into the embrace.
 
He cleared his throat. “I was just thinking, it’s been a really long day, and
we’ve done a lot, and I’m just a bit worn out ...”
 
“... so you just wanted to cuddle, tonight?” she finished.
 
“Well, yeah,” he agreed. He pulled back a little, to look down at her.  “Is
that all right, kiddo?”
 
She smiled up at him, and kissed him gently on the lips.  “I was about to say
the very same thing, Dad,” she said, and not only was it true, but he also knew
it to be so.  She laid her head on his chest again.  “I’ve been through so much
today, I just need to be able to relax and get my head together.  But I still
want to sleep with you.  I think I might need a hug or two, tonight.”
 
He held her close.  “I think I can oblige you with that, Taylor,” he agreed. 
He kissed her on top of her head, and then eased out of the hug.  “In the
meantime, we have dishes to do.”
 
They washed up; a couple of experiments proved that he could not teleport grime
off the dishes, nor the dishes away from the grime.  Apparently some things
never changed.  So the dishes were done the old-fashioned way, and dried the
same old way, and put away in the cupboard.
 
Danny felt a warm glow inside as his daughter scrubbed away at a stubborn
stain.  With all that had changed in their lives, with their new relationship,
with their powers, with everything that had happened, they could still have a
quiet domestic moment like this, as if nothing had changed at all. It gave him
hope for the future.
 
She looked up at him and smiled; of course, with their new level of empathic
connection, she had felt his happiness and divined the meaning of it.
 
“I know, Dad,” she said softly. “I like it too.”
 
They hugged again, almost as father and daughter once more, holding each other,
a rock in a storm, an anchor in a gale.  Stability amid chaos.
 
***
 
When she came to bed, she wore the singlet top and panties that she had worn
the first night they had made love.  She smiled as he recognised it. “It’s not
a message for you to rip it off me and have your wicked way with my sexy, sexy
body,” she said as she lay down alongside him.  “Although I probably would not
resist all that much if you did,” she added with a giggle.  “It’s just that
this is my most comfortable sleepwear.”
 
“The thought never crossed my mind,” he stated piously; which was a lie, and
both of them knew it was a lie, but she didn’t call him on it.
 
They settled down to sleep; she snuggled back against him and he put his arms
around her, spoon-fashion. If one hand was cupping a breast, and the other her
sex, and if she felt a half-hard penis prodding her backside every now and
again, she made no mention.  Tired out or not, they were still extremely
attracted to one another, and such things were more sweet and endearing – in
her opinion – than annoying.
 
He felt her body press back against his, and he could control his autonomic
reaction no more than he could the first time that had happened.  But she made
no protest, merely snuggled her warm buttocks back a little more firmly against
his almost-hard erection, and let his hands find their natural places.
 
They conversed for a little while like that, as sleep gradually overtook them. 
They were warm, comfortable, loved and safe.  It was easy to drift off to
sleep.
 
***
 
Taylor was in the locker. It was closing in on her.  The unimaginably foul muck
was rising around her, it was going to suffocate her, she couldn’t get out, she
couldn’t find her phone, she couldn’t call Dad.  The level of the garbage rose
to her chin.
 
She screamed.
 
***
 
Danny came awake as Taylor thrashed and screamed in his arms.  He tried to hold
her, tried to gently restrain her, as she whipped around, and writhed, and
flailed blindly.  She was screaming his name, over and over.  He heard her
begin to vomit, and teleported them both to the bathroom.
 
Vomit spattered the tiles before he was able to get her head over the toilet,
holding her hair out of the way.
 
She threw up convulsively, her stomach muscles as hard as iron, voiding herself
of everything she had eaten that day, since the locker.
 
He held her gently, speaking soothingly, reminding her that she was all right,
that it was all good, she was out of the locker, he was there, he was never
going to leave her alone ever again.
 
Gradually, she quieted down, stopped vomiting.  Broke into great racking sobs
that shook her skinny frame.  He held her, soothed her.  She cried on his
shoulder.
 
He got her up, cleaned her up, wiped up the vomitus, flushed the toilet.  Held
her while she shivered.
 
“I’m sorry,”  she whimpered, holding him tightly.  “I’m such a burden.”
 
“Never,” he told her firmly, lifting her chin.  Vomit breath or no, he kissed
her firmly on the lips.   “I love you, and you have been badly hurt.  We just
need to work through this.”
 
She rinsed her mouth out; he did the same.  She giggled self-consciously; he
grinned.
 
“Let’s get back to bed,” he said.  “We still need our sleep.”
 
***
 
The locker was full of bugs that had come to feed on the horrible garbage, but
there were more bugs than garbage.  They crawled all over Taylor as she tried
to get out of the locker, up her nostrils, into her mouth, into her eyes, into
her ears.  To her horror, she felt them burrowing into her underwear, crawling
between her buttocks, forcing their way into her anus, crawling between her
labia into her vagina, slithering up into her womb where they would lay their
eggs ...
 
She could not open her mouth, because the bugs wanted to crawl in.  But she had
to if she wanted to scream. 
 
She screamed, choked as the bugs climbed down her throat, screamed again.
 
***
 
Danny came awake once more, as Taylor screamed and thrashed in his arms.  He
held her close, murmuring gently, caressing her hair, telling her that she was
all right.  This time she retched, but nothing came up; he took her to the
bathroom anyway. Kneeling on the white tiles, he embraced her, and she clung to
him, sobbing piteously.
 
Helping her up, he took her to the kitchen and got her a glass of cold water,
and had one himself. Then he took them both back to bed.
 
***
 
The third nightmare did not even wake Taylor up; she moaned and moved around
for a bit in his arms, and he just had to hold her, murmuring soothingly into
her ear, until she calmed down and dropped back to sleep proper.
 
He sighed and lay there for a long time before he finally managed to get back
to sleep himself.
 
***
 
In the morning, he called in sick.  The family emergency, he said, was ongoing,
and he had to take care of Taylor.  Then he went back to bed.
 
Taylor was still asleep when he got there, but she started to wake up when he
climbed back in with her. She opened her eyes with a gasp and turned to him. 
“Oh, thank god, Dad,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.  “I thought you’d
gone somewhere.”
 
“Nowhere without you, kiddo,” he said gently, holding her in his arms. 
“Nowhere without you.”
 
She made a contented noise and snuggled up to him.  “I love you, Dad,” she
murmured, holding him close.  “Was I much trouble, last night?  I seem to
recall waking up a few times.”
 
“Just a bit,” he admitted. “But it’s all right.  You went through something no-
one should ever have to go through, and it’s only natural that there’d be a bit
of fallout from that. And I’m here for you anytime, you know that.”
 
He felt hot tears slide from her eyes on to his chest.  “Hey now, what’s up?”
he asked, caressing her hair.
 
“You’re so good to me, Dad,” she whispered.  “I don’t deserve it.”
 
“You’re my daughter,” he told her bluntly.  “If I say you deserve it, you
deserve it.”
 
She smiled wanly, and rested her head on his chest once more.
 
***
 
Alan Barnes opened the door to find two police officers standing there, along
with a woman in civilian clothes.
 
“May I help you?” he asked.
 
The police officers looked at him.  “Does Emma Barnes live at this address?”
the senior one asked.
 
“Yes, she does,” replied Alan. “I’m her father.  Why do you want to see her?”
 
 “We would like her to come down to the station for questioning, sir.”
 
Alan froze.  “Why – what’s she done?”
 
“You may have heard of an incident where a student at her school was shut into
a locker, yesterday?” asked the police officer.  “We have reason to believe
that she was complicit in that incident.”
 
The lady in civilian clothes stepped forward.  “I’m Dorothy Gillman, from Child
Services,” she said.  “I’m here to ensure that her rights are not abrogated
while she is being questioned.”
 
Somehow, that did not make Alan feel any better.
 
***
 
Across town, a very similar scene was playing out on the doorstep of Madison
Clements.
 
***
 
Taylor and Danny dozed, woke, talked, dozed again, talked again.  It was a
thoroughly relaxing time.  But around about ten o’clock, Danny finally roused
himself.
 
“We should be going soon,” he said.  “Otherwise they’ll be wondering where
we’ve gotten to.”
 
Taylor sat up.  “Yeah, I suppose,” she said.  “I was really enjoying this, but
I guess we should get up.”  Her eyes were bright, her expression playful. 
“Shower?”
 
He smiled and reached for her. “Let’s work up a sweat first.”
 
They made love slowly and tenderly, Danny sliding his penis in and out of
Taylor’s willing slippery vagina. She clung to him and kissed him, moaning with
the pleasure that he caused her.  He felt it also, felt himself beginning to
swell inside her.
 
She came three or four times before he hunched his back, drove himself deep
inside her, and ejaculated; she felt the blistering orgasm, and it raised her
own pleasure exponentially. The feedback from this left them both panting and
shattered on the bed.  Taylor groaned as Danny rolled off of her, his penis
sliding wetly out of her.
 
“Holy shit, Dad, is this just going to get better and better every time we do
it?”
 
“I have no idea,” he panted, taking her in his arms and holding her close. 
“But they say that powers do improve if you work at them.”
 
She put her arms around him, enjoying the feeling of his softening penis lying
between her thighs. “What, you’re saying that having good sex is one of the
powers we share?”
 
He chuckled.  “Sounds as good an explanation as any.”
 
“Wow,” she said.  “I think our shower had better be just a shower. I don’t know
if I could survive something like that twice in a row.”
 
He concurred; the shower was just a shower, albeit with plenty of kissing and
caressing.
 
Afterward, they had a late breakfast, then dressed; he teleported them to the
PRT base.
 
***
 
Armsmaster turned the bag over in his hands, examining the badly damaged
musical instrument within.  "Yes," he decided.  "I can fix this."
 
"If you can," said Danny Hebert, "we would greatly appreciate it."
 
"If Armsmaster says he can do this," said Director Piggot, "he can do it.". She
looked at Danny and Taylor. "Not to open old wounds," she said, "but didn't you
say you had evidence against Shadow Stalker and her two accomplices?"
 
Danny looked at Taylor, who groaned and put her hand to her forehead.  "Would
you believe, in all the excitement, I forgot them?"
 
She shared a glance, and a moment of silent, deadpan, shared amusement, with
her father.  They both knew exactly what she meant by 'excitement'.  Clasping
his hand, she asked, "Dad, could you get them for me?"
 
This time, only Armsmaster was surprised when the purple-brown smoke billowed
around Danny's hand, then dissipated to leave him holding a stack of papers. 
He handed them over to the Director, who promptly handed them on to Armsmaster.
"See how she reacts to these, will you?" she asked.
 
The armoured hero smiled grimly, noting the thickness of the stack.  "Will do,
ma'am," he replied.  He looked at Danny with some respect.  "That's a very
useful trick, sir."
 
Danny cleared his throat self-consciously. "If I'm going to be in the
Protectorate, then you'll be my boss.  I'll be calling you 'sir'."
 
Armsmaster nodded.  "That's a very good point.". He rose.  "I'll just take
these down to the prisoner now."
 
As the door to the conference room closed behind him, Miss Militia looked at
Taylor and Danny.  "I’m guessing you've been discussing it," she said, "so have
you decided what names you will be using?"
 
Taylor grinned.  "At first we liked the idea of calling ourselves 'Search and
Rescue', but then we decided not to be quite so derivative.  So I'm going to be
Compass Rose."
 
Danny nodded.  "And I was thinking of going with either Pathfinder or
Trailblazer."
 
Miss Militia nodded.  "Very strong names.  I must say, I prefer Pathfinder over
Trailblazer, though.  It has an old-world military ring to it.  World War Two,
perhaps?"
 
"Actually, yes," confirmed Director Piggot. They looked at her.  "My father was
a war buff," she continued, unfazed.  "Pathfinder squadrons consisted of light
fighter-bombers, usually Mosquitos, flying out ahead of the heavies and
dropping flares to mark the target."
 
There was silence for a moment, as the others considered this.
 
"That can't have been safe," observed Taylor, taking hold of her father's hand.
 
Piggot shook her head.  "It wasn't.  But we are getting away from the point. 
You have chosen the names Compass Rose and Pathfinder.  Costume ideas?"
 
Danny rubbed his chin.  "Compasses are old-school, and as you say, so is the
idea of the Pathfinder.  So, an old-fashioned look.  Sepia tones.  Brown and
cream."
 
Miss Militia nodded.  "So far, so good.  Accessories?"
 
Taylor spoke up.  "I'd like an actual picture of a compass rose on my costume.
One of the really gorgeous ones, with scrollwork.  Maybe tilted a bit, so it
looks elliptical.  And goggles.  I'll need goggles, with corrective lenses.".
She paused. "Actually, Dad, I've been meaning to ask you.  Why aren't you
wearingyour glasses?"
 
Danny blinked.  "Uh, Panacea gave me corrective treatment," he confessed. "I
kind of forgot about it, with everything that was happening."
 
"Ah," she sighed. "And she didn't do it for me because she didn't know I was a
cape."
 
"We can ask her to come back," offered Director Piggot.
 
"It might not work," observed Miss Militia. "Panacea is very big on her
independence.  She doesn't do individual requests.". She looked up from the pad
she had been sketching on. "How does this look?"
 
The sketches looked remarkably like target outlines that had been filled in
with details after the fact.  Both costumes evoked the 'aviator' look without
actually being explicit about it.  Danny's had knee-high boots, a long coat and
a light helmet, looking vaguely military. The heavy goggles had rectangular
lenses.  "We can also put something across your lower face if you want," she
said.
 
He nodded and passed the pad along to Taylor.  Her costume had the compass rose
on the chest, a light coat, high boots like Danny's and a light helmet with
round-lensed goggles.  "We can build in a heads-up display, to feed you
information on things or people," Miss Militia added.
 
"What do you think, kiddo?" asked Danny.
 
Taylor nodded.  "I like it.  The basic concept, anyway.  We might need to
adjust things a little during fitting.". She tapped the coat her image was
wearing, then held up her own rather skinny wrist.  "We don't want my hands
looking like pipe-cleaners coming out of those sleeves.". She cleared her
throat. "And would it be possible to have just a little, uh, padding, here and
there?"  She looked defiantly around the room.  "So I don't look, you know,
twelve?"
 
Miss Militia coughed.  Danny took a studied interest in the ceiling acoustic
tiles. Director Piggot merely looked deadpan, and made a note.  
 
"I'm sure that will be possible," she murmured.
 
“The costumes will be ready in about two days,” said Miss Militia.  “In the
meantime, it would probably be best if you went about your normal routines.”
 
“Which reminds me,” said Danny. “Did I ... out ... myself, yesterday, with all
my teleporting around?”
 
“Actually,” said Miss Militia, “it’s amazing what people miss if they don’t
compare notes.  We have spoken to the principal at Winslow, and secured her
silence, and that of her staff.  Virtually no-one else is aware of your new
capabilities.”
 
“Uh ... as for going to school ...” said Taylor.  “I’m not sure ...”
 
Miss Militia positively grinned behind her scarf.  “Where are Emma and Madison
now?”
 
Taylor blinked.  “Uh, in the police station.  Not looking happy.”  She blinked
again.  “And Mr Barnes is there too.  He looks like he’s been shouting a lot,
and not getting anywhere.”
 
Miss Militia nodded. “And whatever Sophia can confirm from the papers you gave
us will be added to their charge sheets when they do get arrested.  Believe me
when I say that they are not walking away from this one.”  There was the sound
of considerable satisfaction in her voice.
 
Taylor grinned. “Somehow, I’m really good with that.”
 
Director Piggot nodded. “I’m not surprised.”  She paused.  “What are your plans
for the rest of the day?”
 
“Well,” said Danny, “I’ve called in sick, and Taylor isn’t expected at school,
so we could have a quiet day in ...”  His gaze met Taylor’s.  Read: screw like
rabid weasels.  “... or, we could have a day out and about.”
 
“Or,” offered Taylor, “do you have a spare computer that I can pull up those
missing-persons lists on?”
 
Director Piggot’s gaze met that of Miss Militia.  “I do believe we just might,”
agreed Miss Militia.
 
“While we’re getting that set up,” added the Director, “would you be able to
tell me the status of Jack Slash?”
 
Taylor breathed deeply, and took her father’s hand.
 
“He’s injured, hiding out in a town called Burwell, to the southeast of where
he was yesterday,” she reported.  “Shrapnel wounds and some pretty bad burns. 
Four sixty-three South Eighth Avenue.”  She paused. “Crawler's still in the
area, Shatterbird’s flying southwest, and I can’t get a read on Siberian at
all.  It’s like she doesn’t exist.”  She frowned.  “That’s really weird ... and
possibly really bad.  How did she go invisible to my power between one day and
the next?”
 
 Miss Militia shrugged.  “You’ve only just recently gotten your powers,” she
said.  “Maybe you’re still working them out.”
 
Taylor shrugged dubiously. “Okay, I guess.”  She looked  at Director Piggot. 
“The rest are in custody?”
 
“Or dead,” replied the Director bluntly.  “But from retrieved remains, only the
four got away.”  She smiled thinly.  “Thank you for the information about Jack
Slash.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “You’re welcome.”
 
Miss Militia stood up. “Come on,” she said.  “Let’s get you set up for finding
missing persons.”
 
Taylor got up along with Danny. Hand in hand, they followed her out the door.
 
***** Out of the Bag *****
Chapter Summary
     Pathfinder and Compass Rose get their new costumes, and meet the
     Wards, but someone figures out their darkest secret ...
Director Piggot tapped the pointer on the electronic board.  “Thanks to Compass
Rose, we now have a good lead on the bases for every single prominent
supervillain gang in the city,” she announced.  “We’ve also supplied the Boston
Protectorate team with the location of Accord’s base, and the location of his
office within that building.  Likewise, the Adepts in New York.”
 
Miss Militia raised her hand.  “Isn’t this edging very close to the unwritten
rule about not outing capes?” she asked.
 
Director Piggot shook her head.  “Not if we don’t use it until the villain
group in question goes over the line themselves.”
 
Armsmaster looked up. “Define ‘over the line’.”
 
Piggot snorted.  “Use your head.  Specifically going after civilians.  Hurting
innocents randomly.  Hitting surrendered capes when they’re down.  Kidnapping
women and kids.  Murder. Rape.  It’s not hard to figure out where the line is.”
 
“Not robbery then?” asked Armsmaster.  “Assault? Drug dealing?”
 
“Well, of course you’re supposed to try to stop them from basic crimes like
that,” Director Piggot explained.  “And if they deal drugs to kids, certainly. 
But everyday crimes aren’t heinous enough to warrant kicking in the door to a
villain’s base.  If we start playing hardball, they start playing hardball. 
And there’s more of them than there are of us.”  
 
She took a deep breath. “Besides, right now, Compass Rose is the most valuable
secret weapon we have.  Bar none.  They don’t know we have her, and even when
she goes public, they won’t know her full capabilities.  We’ll put it out that
she can locate small items within a reasonable radius, say a mile. Not people. 
And that she needs an hour or so to ‘attune’ herself to the item. That’ll make
her seem harmless enough.”
 
“And Pathfinder?” asked Miss Militia.
 
“We keep the full capability of his power under wraps as well.  We do not let
anyone know of their close connection, either familial or power-wise,” declared
the Director.  “Too much chance of someone realising who they are.  Also,
hostage situations are a distinct possibility, then. No, they’ll just be two
people with similar costumes, whose powers work well together.”
 
“How is she going on the missing-persons front?” asked Armsmaster.  “And how
are you explaining that away, anyway?”
 
Director Piggot smiled thinly.  “She’s cleared seventy-five percent of all the
current outstanding missing-persons cases in the continental United States. 
The ones who are in a good situation, she’s leaving for later.  Only the ones
who are in danger are being passed on for action. And we’re notifying the next
of kin for those who are deceased.”  She glanced at Armsmaster.  “We’re telling
people that we’ve engaged the services of a high-powered precog for a limited
time, as a publicity thing.  They seem to be buying it.”
 
She powered down the board, and extracted the memory stick.  “No-one speaks
about this.  But if and when it’s needed ... we’ve got it.”
 
***
 
Taylor bundled her hair up and secured it, then lowered the helmet over her
head and strapped it into place.  The goggles fitted into place over her eyes;
even as old-fashioned as they appeared, with fittings that looked like leather
and brass, they corrected her vision flawlessly, giving her more peripheral
vision than was immediately apparent.
 
She shrugged her shoulders inside the light coat, moving around to ensure that
the costume sat well. Looking down, she admired the in-perspective image of the
compass rose on her chest, which was itself a little more prominent than she
was used to.  The padding was discreet, but added inches where they were
needed.  More padding gave her actual hips, so that she went from skinny and
gawky to shapely and slender.
 
“How are the boots?” asked Miss Militia, breaking into her reverie.
 
Taylor stamped her feet in them a couple of times.  “Comfortable,” she said. 
“I like them.”  She admired herself in the mirror,  the brown and cream tones
blending into one another.  “Is this what they call retro?” she asked.
 
“I think so,” agreed Miss Militia.  “It suits you.”
 
Taylor grinned at the older hero.  “Thanks,” she said. “Let’s go see how Dad’s
getting on.” She already knew; she could see him in her mind’s eye.  But they
didn’t need to know that.
 
***
 
Danny saw a stranger walk out with Miss Militia, wearing his daughter’s
costume.  Behind the leather-look mask that hid his lower face, he frankly
gaped.  Her costume concealed lifts in her boots, making her a few inches
taller.  The padding – he had been told it was silicone inserts, that would
seem realistic even to touch – made her seem more mature, more graceful.  He
could easily believe her to be seventeen now, instead of fifteen.
 
Taylor looked at the tall, commanding stranger alongside Armsmaster.  His
helmet had a suggestion of a peak that evoked the idea of a military cap; the
heavy, square-framed goggles were tinted and the mask below gave the impression
of a strong jaw.  He looked mysterious, dashing, dangerous.
 
His long coat swept behind him like a cape as he moved to meet her.  In black
or dark grey, he would have looked sinister, even evil. As it was, the cream
lining of the coat made him look lighter, friendlier.  He held out his hand;
they both wore heavy-looking gloves, but with much finer material on the palm
and underside of the fingers, so that they could still make tactile contact
while wearing them.
 
She clasped his hand; they felt their minds click into full contact.  She knew,
then, just how much he wanted her, seeing her in this costume. She wasn’t
surprised; seeing her father in his full costume made her itch to be alone with
him, so that he could have his wicked way with her.
 
“Compass Rose,” said Danny, the mask making his voice a little more resonant, a
little deeper.
 
“Pathfinder,” she responded.  They shook.  “It will be good to be working with
you.”
 
“Likewise,” he replied, with a grin inside his mask.  I can’t wait to get you
home.
 
Even though she couldn’t see his grin, she knew it was there, and she returned
it in kind.  Me too.
 
Miss Militia walked around them, eyeing them up and down.  “I think you two
look good together,” she observed.  “The visual effect is ... striking.”
 
Armsmaster nodded. “They don’t look like father and daughter.  Perhaps brother
and sister, even.”
 
Or husband and wife, thought Taylor wistfully.  She glanced at her father; he
looked back at her impassively.  But she was sure he had just had that very
same thought.
 
“Equal partners, anyway,” Miss Militia agreed.  She turned to the pair.  “Do
you know where to take us?”
 
Taylor’s eyes unfocused for just a moment; she picked a Ward at
random.  Clockblocker.  The image unfolded in her mind.  She could see him,
chatting with blurry figures.  She knew exactly where.  And, through their
link, so did Danny.
 
“Yes,” he replied, about a second after the question had been asked.
 
Miss Militia laid a hand on Taylor’s shoulder; Armsmaster repeated the gesture
with Danny.  Miss Militia grinned.  “Take us out, Number One,” she said.
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed around them.  When it dissipated, they were gone.
 
***
 
Three feet to Clockblocker’s left, purple-brown smoke billowed out of nowhere,
then faded away, to leave four people standing there.
 
“Christ!” he blurted, and dropped his drink.
 
It puffed into smoke halfway to the floor, and reappeared in the hand of the
tall masked figure standing beside Armsmaster.  Danny stepped forward and
handed it back to the white-clad Ward.  “You dropped this,” he said, his voice
resonant inside his mask.
 
Dennis accepted the drink. “Ah ... thanks?” he said.  The tall figure bowed his
head slightly in acknowledgement.
 
Taylor squeezed her father’s hand in amused reproval.  Showoff, she thought.
 
He picked up her amusement, and squeezed back.  And?
 
It had been a very impressive entrance; all eyes were on them.  Armsmaster
stepped forward and raised his hands.  “Everyone!” he called out.  “We would
like you to meet Pathfinder and Compass Rose!  Pathfinder is joining the
Protectorate, and Compass Rose is joining the Wards!”
 
A tall youth moved toward them.  He wasn’t masked; his features were Hispanic,
and his long black hair was tied back.  “Hi, Compass Rose,” he said, offering
his hand.  “I’m Aegis.”  He grinned, his teeth very white against his swarthy
skin.  “But you can call me Carlos.”
 
Taylor glanced at Danny and got a fractional nod in return, then unclipped her
helmet and lifted it off. She shook her hair out and let it fall free.  “Hi,
Carlos,” she said, shaking his hand.  “I’m Taylor.”
 
“Come on,” said Aegis. “I’ll introduce you to the gang.” He led her away,
leaving Danny standing with Miss Militia and Armsmaster, and Clockblocker
watching her retreating rear-view.
 
Crap, thought Dennis.  Another hot chick joins the team, and I have to go make
an idiot out of myself.
 
And then he became aware of Pathfinder leaning down beside him.
 
“Just so you know,” said Danny, just loudly enough for the teen hero to hear
him, “if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking about her ... she’s my
daughter.”
 
Clockblocker froze, almost as if he had used his own power on himself.  Danny
patted him on the shoulder.  “Good lad.”
 
Then he moved off with the other two, to meet the other members of the
Protectorate, leaving Clockblocker standing alone.
 
“Hey!” said Vista. “Come and meet the new girl! She’s cool!”  She grabbed him
by the arm and tugged him along; he had not the spirit to resist.
 
***
 
“So you’re the reason Shadow Stalker’s no longer with us?” asked Kid Win. 
Helmet off, he had introduced himself as Chris, and had pleasant features and
brown hair.  His question was curious rather than accusative.
 
“Uh, yeah,” said Taylor. “I don’t know how much I’m allowed to say, but ... she
did something really bad.  And it happened to me.  And Dad had to come and get
me out of it.  When Dad triggered ...”
 
“Wait, wait,” said Gallant. Unmasked, he had told her to call him Dean. 
“Pathfinder’s your dad?”
 
Taylor grinned. “Yeah.  He got his powers the same time I got mine.  Cool,
huh?”  She was starting to relax and enjoy this.  
 
Vista nodded.  “It would be great to always have someone at home you can talk
to about having powers.”  She rolled her eyes.  “With my family, it’s always
‘have you tried not having powers?  Why can’t you be normal?’”
 
Taylor giggled. “Yeah, it is really nice.  Not having to pretend.  No secrets. 
No awkwardness.”  She looked over toward him.
 
Danny felt her attention and looked toward her; he’d removed his helmet and
held it under his arm. He felt her love and desire toward him, and returned it
in full measure.
 
Gallant blinked.  I did not just see what I thought I saw.
 
“Now, I know you stop time,” said Taylor to Clockblocker, “but I’m still a bit
unsure on what you do,” she added to Vista.
 
Vista grinned.  “I can stretch or squeeze space, so it might take you all day
to cross this room, or make it in a single step.”
 
Taylor’s eyes widened. “That’s an awesome power.”
 
Vista nodded.  “So what do you do?”
 
Taylor grinned.  “I locate stuff.”
 
“Yeah?” asked Browbeat. “Like what?”
 
Taylor shrugged. “Basically, anything I’ve got enough details on to make it
unique.  I get a mental image of it, and I know its exact location.”
 
“Like ... anything?” said Kid Win.
 
Taylor shrugged again. “Try me.”
 
Carlos spoke up.  “My mother lost her favourite necklace last week. She doesn’t
know where it’s got to.”
 
“I’m going to need more details than that,” Taylor told him.
 
“Silver and turquoise,” Carlos said.  “Actually, hold on, I got a photo of it
on my phone somewhere.”  He flicked through pictures until he found one, and
Taylor looked at it.
 
Her eyes went unfocused for a moment.  “Got it,” she said.  “It’s in a pawn
shop, downtown.”  She gave him the address.  “Currently under the counter.  It
hasn’t been put on display yet.”
 
He stared at her. “You .. got all that, just from the photo?” he asked.
 
She nodded.  “It’s what I do,” she said.  “Actually, if you want, we could get
it back for you.”
 
“We?” he asked.
 
“Me and Dad,” she clarified.
 
He frowned.  “Go there and ask for it back, you mean?”
 
She grinned.  “Not exactly.”  She didn’t even look his way, but purple-brown
smoke billowed beside her, and her father was standing there.
 
“You wanted me, Taylor?” he asked.
 
Everyone around her stepped back with varying shock and surprise on their
features.  Vista looked delighted.  “Oh, that was awesome!” she said. 
 
Taylor took her father’s hand.  “Stolen property,” she said. “Get it back?”
 
He held out his free hand. A puff of smoke later, and the necklace lay coiled
up in it.  Aegis stared at it, hypnotised.  Taylor picked it up and handed it
to him.  “Tell your mom hi from me,” she said with a smile.
 
He cradled it in his hands. Everyone was goggling at Taylor and Danny.  Taylor
looked around, shrugged slightly.  “What?” she asked.
 
Danny grinned, gave her a one-armed hug, and said, “I’ll get back to the adults
now.  Call me if you need me.”  And then he disappeared in his characteristic
billow of smoke.
 
Vista squealed and hugged Taylor.  “That was fantastic!” she exulted.  “Can you
and your dad do that all the time?”
 
Taylor grinned and hugged her back.  “Mostly, yeah,” she said.
 
Browbeat turned to Clockblocker.  “Do you believe what you just saw?”
 
Clockblocker shrugged. “I dunno.  What did you just see?”
 
Kid Win clapped Taylor on the shoulder.  “Well done. Welcome to the team.”
 
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thanks, Chris.  It’s nice to have new
friends.”
 
He grinned at her. “Likewise, Taylor.  Is your dad going to be working with us
a lot?”
 
“Actually,” said Taylor, “I’ll probably be working with him a lot.  We, uh,
work well together.”
 
“Except when you’re doing monitor duty and stuff,” said Clockblocker.
 
“Maybe even then,” said Taylor.  “Miss Militia says we’re a special case.”
 
“Excuse me,” said Gallant. “I just gotta go do something.” He moved off toward
where Armsmaster was standing alone, tapping away at a small pad set into the
arm of his suit.
 
***
 
“Taylor seems to be getting along well with the others,” observed Miss Militia.
 
Danny nodded.  “She’s needed friends of her own age for the longest time.  At
her school ... she was bullied a lot.  Which, in a roundabout way, is why we’re
here today.”
 
She gave him a sympathetic look.  “I know,” she said.  She put her hand on his
arm.  “If you ever need someone to talk to ...”
 
He looked at her, slightly surprised.  “I, uh, guess, yeah, sometime I might do
that,” he said.
 
The moment was interrupted when Assault slapped Danny on the shoulder.  “So,
Pathfinder, is it?”
 
“Call me Danny,” he said with a grin.
 
“Danny, right.” Assault offered his hand. “Ethan.  It’s good to see another
family man on the team.  And you, what, teleport?”
 
Danny nodded.  “I haven’t figured out all the tricks I can do with it, but
Taylor’s helping me out with that.  She’s very imaginative like that.”  And in
other ways, his inner voice supplied.
 
“I’m sure that’ll be a very useful addition to the team,” said Battery.  “Can
you teleport other people?  Oh wait,” she said immediately.  “You arrived with
Compass Rose, Armsmaster and Miss Militia. Sorry.”
 
“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Normally, one other person.  But when Taylor’s with me,
my capacity improves a lot.”
 
“How much is a lot?” asked Dauntless curiously.
 
Danny shrugged. “Haven’t hit a limit yet.”
 
Triumph shared a glance with Assault.  “We are gonna have to test that out,”
declared Assault.
 
Danny grinned.  “Any time.”
 
***
 
“Sir,” said Gallant. “I need to speak with you immediately.”
 
Armsmaster looked up from where he was calibrating his left gauntlet.  “Can it
wait?”
 
Gallant shook his head. “I ... no, I don’t think so.  I think it’s important.”
 
Armsmaster frowned, locked down what he had been doing, and closed the panel. 
“So talk.”
 
Gallant looked around at the rest of the people in the room.  “I think we need
more privacy.  And Director Piggot needs to hear this as well.”
 
Armsmasteer nodded. “You think this is serious.  All right, we’ll treat this as
serious.”  He moved off; Gallant followed him.  “Is this about Compass Rose and
Pathfinder?”
 
“I’d really rather wait till we were in private,” Gallant said.  I hate myself
for doing this, but I really, really think someone needs to know about this.
 
“Understood,” said Armsmaster.  Inside his helmet, he activated his comm, and
sent a call through to Director Piggot.
 
***
 
They stood in a closed conference room; Gallant faced Armsmaster and Director
Piggot.
 
“Okay,” said the Director. “Now, what’s so important that you had to drag me
away from my duties?”
 
Gallant swallowed. “I see emotions; you know this.” He could certainly see the
irritation hovering over Armsmaster, and the growing anger that Piggot was only
just holding in check.
 
“Yes,” said Armsmaster. “Get to the point.”
 
“Taylor and her father love each other,” blurted Gallant, and hated himself all
the more for saying it like that.
 
Armsmaster looked at Piggot; she looked back.  Both shrugged.  “And so?” asked
the Director.
 
“No,” he said.  “I mean, really love each other.”
 
Armsmaster tilted his head. “I don’t get you,” he said.
 
“Wait,” said the Director. “Do you mean ... love.  As in sex?”
 
Gallant nodded. There was sweat on his brow.
 
“As in ... they’re in a sexual relationship?” said Armsmaster slowly.
 
Again, Gallant nodded. “Unless I’m reading the vibes all wrong, whenever they
look at each other, it’s like when Assault and Battery are about ready to drag
each other off to their room.”
 
“Oh, christ almighty,” muttered Director Piggot.  She put her hand over her
eyes.  “I knew it was too good to be true.  I just knew it.”
 
“How old is she?” asked Armsmaster.
 
“Fifteen,” replied the Director flatly.  Gallant felt sick.  That’s so against
the law, it’s not funny.
 
“Right,” said the Director. She turned to Gallant.  “Thank you for this
information.  Does anyone else apart from us three know of it?”
 
Gallant shrugged. “Apart from Taylor and her dad?” he ventured, trying to
achieve a light tone.  He wilted at the look she gave him.  “Uh, no-one that I
know of.”
 
“Good,” she said. “See that it stays that way. We’re going to have to do
something about this.”
 
Armsmaster looked at her. “What, exactly?  What she’s done so far, what she’s
continuing to do ...”
 
“I know, I know!” she snapped.  “After this party is over, have Miss Militia
meet me, yourself, Aegis, and the Heberts in my office. We’re going to have
this out.” She turned to Gallant. “You.  Tell.  Nobody. Is that absolutely and
perfectly clear?”
 
He gulped.  “Uh, yes, ma’am,” he said.
 
She nodded. “Dismissed,” she said.
 
Relieved, he scuttled from the room.
 
Behind him, Armsmaster and Piggot shared a long look.
 
What are we going to do?
***** Recognition *****
Chapter Summary
     Amy and Vicky come to an understanding, Taylor and Danny face an
     accusation, and there is a meeting to decide their fate
"Hey Vicky, wait up!"
 
Victoria Dallon looked over her shoulder to see her younger sister hurrying to
catch up before she reached the stairs.  Reluctantly, she slowed her fast walk.
 
"What?" she asked.  "I'm busy.  I've got to get ready to meet Dean, later."
 
"You've been busy these last two days, Vicky," said Amy as she caught up. "Have
you been avoiding me?"
 
"No, of course not," protested Victoria.  
 
Amy looked at her steadily.  
 
"Not really," temporised Vicky.
 
The soft brown eyes seemed to bore into her.  
 
"Only a little bit?" she said at last, in a small voice.
 
Panacea sighed.  "Vicky, I'm the same person that I was three days ago. I've
felt the way I do about you for a long time.  I'm not going to start acting
differently around you, just because you know how I feel about you."
 
"But I do know how you feel," protested Victoria.  "It changes the way I see
you."
 
"Does it change the way you feel about me?" challenged Panacea softly.
 
"Yes! No!  Fuck, I don't know!". Victoria put her hands up, as if she were
about to start pulling at her hair. "I just wish you'd never told me, that's
all."
 
"You'd rather I just kept lying to you and to myself?" pressed Amy.
 
Victoria looked at her sister, the girl with whom she had shared a thousand
triumphs, a thousand tears.  She had thought she knew Amy, knew how she felt,
knew how she ticked.  A realisation struck her.
 
I do know her.  I just didn't know her before. Everyone changes.
 
She looked into those soft brown eyes, and saw the echo of the pain that her
sister had kept hidden for so long.  Knew that she was only seeing it now
because Amy was letting her see it.
 
It's called growing up.  Everyone has to grow up.  Even me.
 
Slowly, she shook her head.  "No, Ames," she said softly.  "I wouldn't rather
you kept lying."
 
Stepping forward, she opened her arms and embraced her sister. 
Unselfconscious, unafraid, uncaring.  Or rather, caring very much.  You are my
sister, and I love you, and I don't care if you're attracted to me. I'll hug
you if I want.
 
Amy felt her sister's arms go around her, and she reciprocated, clinging to the
person she loved and cared for most in all the world.  She felt tears come to
her eyes and she sniffled.
 
"What's the matter with you now?"
 
Amy could have laughed with glee.  This was the abrasive, sarcastic Vicky she
knew and loved.  "Nothing," she lied, smiling wanly.  "I must be coming down
with a cold or something."
 
"Bullshit," said Victoria flatly.  "You don't get colds."  She eyed Amy in mild
disbelief.  "You're crying.  Why are you crying?"
 
"Because my sister, who I love more than anyone in the world, just let me hug
her for the first time in three days," explained Amy.  "I'm happy."

Victoria shook her head.  "You're weird, is what you are.". Her gaze softened. 
"But I'll try not to avoid you in future, okay?"
 
Amy smiled widely.  "Thanks, Vicky," she said, then paused.  "Do you really
mean that?"
 
"Of course I do," replied Vicky, before she saw the playful gleam in her
sister's eye.  "What are you up to?"
 
"Nothing," Amy assured her innocently.  "I was just thinking, it's been ages
since we went out and had fun together.  Go down to the Boardwalk, have dinner
together, maybe catch a movie ...?"
 
Victoria looked at her suspiciously.  "Are you trying to guilt me into a date?"
 
"No!" protested Amy.  Then she grinned.  "Well, maybe.  But it doesn't have to
be a date.  It could be just a chance for two sisters to catch up, talk about
things, have fun together.  Like we used to do.  Those were fun, weren't they?"
 
Reluctantly, Victoria nodded.  "They were.". She eyed her sister.  "Would you
be okay with it not being a date?". She paused.  "I'm guessing that it being a
date would mean you'd want a kiss at some point."
 
Amy nodded.  "If you don't want it to be a date, then it can be a perfectly
normal day out," she assured Victoria.  "The last thing I want to do is freak
you out."
 
Vicky regarded her with a bemused air, as though she were not quite sure how
she had gotten to this point in the conversation.
 
"Okay, I'll tell you what," she said at last.  "If you're really good all the
way through, and you don't grab my ass, or try to get romantic in the movies,
and don't freak me out in any way, then maybe I'll let you have a kiss at the
end of the night.  But only if you're good, mind."
 
A fun day out, where I don't have to watch out for her making moves on me, and
reward her with a kiss at the end, she thought.  I can do that.
 
She concentrated on feeling noble, and resolutely ignored the part of her that
was very interested in knowing if another kiss from Amy would feel as good as
the first one.  That had nothing to do with her decision; she was just being
nice to her poor love-struck lesbian sister, that was all.
 
Amy squealed and hugged her.  Vicky grinned and hugged her back.  She knew
these hugs of old; this was pure Amy, for as long as she'd known her.
 
Amy looked up at her.  "Is holding hands okay?" she asked ingenuously. 
"Because we used to do that all the time, too."
 
This was true; they had.  Vicky sighed.  "Yes, we can hold hands," she said
with a fond smile.  "I won't freak out."
 
Amy hugged her again, then let her go.  "You might want to get ready to see
Dean," she said with a grin.
 
Vicky gave her an answering grin, ruffled her hair, and went upstairs.
 
Yes! exulted Amy.  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  We’re going on a date!  She
paused. Maybe a date, she corrected herself.  But even that ‘maybe’ was cause
for celebration.
 
Ice cream time.
 
***
 
Director Piggot sat behind her desk.  Danny Hebert, holding his helmet under
his arm, stood in front of the desk.  There was no chair for him, this time.
 
To one side of the office stood Armsmaster, and beside him Aegis.  The elder
hero was impassive behind his helmet; the younger one looked tense and worried.
 
Danny tried to look as impassive as Armsmaster, but he had an idea of what was
going on.  How did they find out? he asked himself.  He had no answers.
 
“Mr Hebert,” said Director Piggot, almost gently, “there have been some very
startling, and very serious, accusations levelled at you, in regards to your
relationship with your daughter.  We need them answered before we go any
farther.”  She looked him in the eye.  “I need to know what’s going on here.”
 
Danny took a deep breath.  “If we’re going to be talking about Taylor, then she
needs to be in the room.  I refuse to speak about her, good or ill, behind her
back.”
 
Before anyone could refute him, he disappeared in a billow of purple-brown
smoke.
 
***
 
Taylor looked up as Danny appeared beside her.  “Dad?” she asked in a
frightened tone.  “What’s going on?”
 
“Director Piggot needs to ask you a question, kiddo,” he said quietly.  He took
her hand, and laid his other hand on Miss Militia’s arm.  Before either could
protest, they had vanished once more.
 
***
 
Smoke billowed, and Danny and Taylor reappeared, with Miss Militia.  “I’m
back,” he said.  “Now, you have a question which concerns Taylor.  Ask her.”
 
Director Piggot tried to look Taylor in the eye; she seemed to find it
difficult. Finally, she managed to do so, and said somewhat more harshly than
she intended, “Taylor, is your father having sex with you?”
 
Aegis gasped; he obviously had not been filled in on the details.  Danny felt
sorry for the lad.
 
Taylor squared her shoulders and squeezed her father’s hand.  She didn’t need
his empathic presence to know what he wanted her to say.
 
“No,” she said clearly.  Armsmaster opened his mouth to say something, but she
went on.  “I’m having sex with him.”
 
Dead silence in the room.  Aegis was staring at Taylor with what seemed pain in
his eyes.
 
“No matter who initiates it,” forced out Director Piggot, “it’s still against
the law –“
 
“Fuck the law!” shouted Taylor.  “Did the law stop Sophia, or Emma, or Madison
from doing any of the shit they put me through for eighteen fucking months? 
Did the law get me out of that fucking locker when I was screaming and puking
and shitting my pants?  Did the law hold me and soothe me last night when I had
nightmares so bad I was throwing up all over again?”   She had tears running
down her cheeks, glaring at Director Piggot.
 
“That’s not – “ began the Director.
 
“The fuck it’s not!” shouted Taylor.  “You came in here expecting to condemn my
Dad – a more loveable, wonderful, caring man you will never fucking meet – for
molesting me, for forcing me to have sex with him!  Well, fuck you all if you
think that of him!  He never did a single thing, never laid a finger on me,
until just before Christmas!  And I’m glad he did! And you should be glad,
too!”
 
Miss Militia cleared her throat.  “What … happened, just before Christmas?” she
asked.  Armsmaster looked at her; Director Piggot glared at her.  Aegis just
looked like he wanted to sink through the floor.  Miss Militia ignored them all
and looked steadfastly at Taylor.
 
“My mom’s flute,” said Taylor simply.  “I took it to school so I could get
through the last day of school.  It’s the last thing I’ve got of hers.  They
took it from my locker, and  -“ she pointed at Armsmaster.  “He knows what they
did to it.”
 
Armsmaster nodded.  “Yes. They did their best to destroy it.”
 
“So I found it on the trash heap.  I looked for a bag to put it in.  I got back
with the bag, it was gone.  I skipped the rest of the classes; I went to the
bathroom and locked myself in and cried.”
 
Danny put his arm around her; she snuggled into his embrace, and continued.  “I
was utterly shattered.  Devastated.  It was the most precious thing I owned,
and because I’d been stupid enough to take it to school, it was gone. 
Forever.”
 
She paused, and sniffled.  A handkerchief appeared in Danny’s hand in a puff of
smoke, and he handed it to her. She blew her nose, and continued.
 
“You have to understand.  I’d had no support from the school for all the time
the bullies were getting at me.  I was about as down as you can get, and still
be breathing.  Dad did his best, but … some things you can’t help with.”  She
paused.  “But I told him about it, and we went to see legal aid people.  And
they looked at all the evidence we showed you, and they said that Mr Barnes
would tear it apart in court, and we’d end up losing all our money trying to
defend it.  So we had no chance.”
 
She wiped her eyes and looked at Director Piggot.  “Have you read that stuff?”
 
The Director nodded, stiffly.  “It was …” She seemed lost for words.
 
“Yes!” shouted Taylor, and Aegis and Miss Militia jumped.  “I
spent months writing that shit down, saving emails, and to have it thrown back
in my face … that night, I decided to kill myself. Cut my wrists.  Just end
it.  Let the fucking bitches win.  I couldn’t give a fuck.  I had nothing
left.”
 
The silence was absolute.  She blew her nose.  “Dad … Dad saw something in my
face.  Spoke to me.  Told me that if I ever wanted to talk to him about
anything, that he would listen.  He would be there.  He’s been a bit distant
since Mom died, but … he came back to me, that night.  And so I was lying there
in bed, thinking about getting up, going to the shower, getting Dad’s straight
razor …”  She shivered.  “I could see myself doing it.  I wanted to see myself
doing it.”
 
“So what happened?” asked Miss Miltia, her voice startling in the silence.
 
Taylor gave her a wan smile, the tears still rolling down her cheeks.  “I
remembered what Dad said.  I went to see him.  He was in bed.  I crawled in
with him.  I’ve done it a thousand times before.  But this time … I was a
confused teenager, needy for any sort of relationship I could get.  And he’d
been without sex for years.  We bumped against each other, things happened, and
he had a reaction.  I … wouldn’t let it go.  Forced the issue.  And things just
… took their course.” 
 
She stared at Director Piggot defiantly.  “I can give you a blow-by-blow
account, if you want.  I have a remarkably clear memory of that night.”
 
The Director cleared her throat uncomfortably.  “The details of the … incident
… are not what is in question here.”
 
“No,” said Taylor.  “It’s not. It’s my life, and my Dad’s.”  She grabbed his
arm, and pulled it close around her.  “The next morning … I got up, and the sun
was shining, and the birds were singing, and life was good. For the first. 
Fucking.  Time. Ever.  Since Emma and the others had started picking at me.” 
Tears were running down her face again.
 
She glared at Director Piggot.  “He saved my life.   Yes, he did it by having
sex with me, which is illegal three ways that I know of, but if he hadn’t, I
would be fucking dead, and there would be no-one called Compass Rose finding
bad guys and missing persons for you.”
 
“You can stop –“ ventured Armsmaster.  
 
Taylor swung toward him.  “No, I fucking can’t!” she shouted.  “Because I have
all that shit bottled up inside me.  And it keeps trying to get out. And the
only fucking thing that keeps it down, keeps the demons from pouring their
poison into my ear, keeps me from slashing my wrists in the middle of the
night, is my Dad’s love, and the fact that he is willing to take me into his
bed and make love to me.”
 
She turned back to Director Piggot.  “So you can punish Dad.  Go ahead; I can’t
stop you.  But whatever you do to him, you make fucking sure that you do to me,
because whatever he’s guilty of, I’m twice as guilty.  And be sure to put my
name on the deceased list, because as soon as I know I’ll never see him again,
there is no fucking way I’ll live another week.”
 
“You’re threatening to –“ began the Director.
 
“I’m threatening fucking nothing!” screamed Taylor.  “I don’t want to die!  I
want to live!  But that only works when I have Dad with me!  If he’s gone, if I
have to stop … seeing him, sleeping with him, making love with him, then …
that’s all gone.  All my reason for living.  Gone.” She sank to her knees,
choking on her sobs.  “I can’t go on … without him.”
 
And then she couldn’t talk any more.  She could only cry.  And Danny was on his
knees beside her, holding her.  She clung to him, crying into his shoulder.
 
Director Piggot spoke.  “Mr Hebert.”  He didn’t hear her; she raised her voice.
“Pathfinder.”
 
He looked around at that.  “What?” he asked.  “Did you want to hurt my daughter
some more?  Open some old wounds a little deeper?  Rub some salt in them,
maybe?”  The venom in his tone stung her, and not least because it was not
exactly unwarranted.
 
“No,” she said.  “Take her home.  Comfort her … any way you need to.”  She
closed her eyes for a moment.  “We will … discuss this.  Let you know what we
have decided.”
 
He nodded once, curtly.  They vanished in a billow of purple-brown smoke.
 
Director Piggot looked over at Armsmaster.  “Well?” she asked.
 
Armsmaster spread his hands.  “Every single statement was not only true, but
pegged the meter on emotional content. She not only believed everything she
said, but she felt very strongly about it.”
 
Director Piggot looked at each person in turn.  “I’m opening a round-robin
here.  I want each of you to give your opinion on the matter.  Including you,
Aegis.”
 
Aegis started, and stared at her.  “You want me to give an opinion on -?”
 
She nodded curtly.  “It’s what leadership is all about.  Sometimes you have to
make the hard decisions about your subordinates.  Even ones you like.  Even
ones who have done distasteful things.”
 
He nodded, taking her words in.  “Yes, ma’am.  Do you want my opinion now, or
..?”
 
“I will ask for it, in due time.  But first. Miss Militia.  Your impressions?”
 
Miss Militia took a deep breath.  “They are good people, in a very bad
situation.  I like her.  I like him.  He’s no paedophile.  When he saw his
daughter in the padded costume, making her look more mature, he
was more attracted, not less.”  She paused.  “Why didn’t I see that, then?”
 
“Because you weren’t looking for it,” said Armsmaster dryly.  “None of us
were.”
 
She nodded in acknowledgement, and continued.  “Taylor is … sweet.  Kind.
Friendly.  A little needy, but in her situation, I’m not exactly surprised.
Danny is … a nice man.  He gets along well with the other members of the
Protectorate.  A team player.  Not arrogant.  I think he’d really do well in a
group.”
 
She assumed parade rest, faced Director Piggot, and said, “I believe that if we
could get past this, they would both be unbelievably valuable assets to the
Protectorate.”
 
Director Piggot nodded.  “Noted. Aegis?”
 
Aegis gulped and nodded.  “Taylor is … a good kid.  I didn’t know she was
fifteen.  The costume makes her look older.  She acts older.  More mature.  Not
silly.  But she gets along well with Vista, doesn’t talk down to her, doesn’t
treat her like a kid.  She’s anxious to please, doesn’t get arrogant with her
power.  She was really happy she could help me out with my mom’s necklace.  She
gets along with most everyone.  I think Clockblocker’s got a crush.  She seems
to like Kid Win.”
 
He took a deep breath.  “I like her.  Not just for the necklace.  For who she
is.  What she is.  I’d be happy to have her on my team any day.”  A pause. 
“Even knowing how it is with her and her dad … I’d still be happy.  She
deserves to have friends.  Friends who understand.”
 
He gulped again, stood in a fair approximation of Miss Militia’s parade rest,
and said, “I would have her in my team any day.”
 
Director Piggot nodded.  “Noted. Armsmaster?”
 
The armoured hero stepped forward.  “I’ve been checking up the statutes
involved.  Daniel Hebert is guilty of having sex with a minor under the age of
sixteen, presumably of taking the virginity of a minor under the age of
sixteen, and of course the very serious charge of incest.  If found guilty on
any of these charges, he would face at least ten years of jail time.”  
 
He paused for breath.  “Taylor Hebert, by her own admission, is complicit in
these actions, although her status as a minor would mitigate her legal
liability in the matter.  She would spend time in a juvenile facility, and
undergo psychiatric care.  Quite possibly, given the trauma she has obviously
been subjected to, for the rest of her life.”  He stopped speaking.  
 
Director Piggot looked at him.  “Is that your recommendation?”
 
He shook his head.  “No, Director.  Taylor Hebert is obviously a very troubled
girl, and if I am to take my readings at all seriously, the only person keeping
her at all sane is her father.  And the only way he can apparently do that is
by performing illegal acts with her.  That’s one side of the matter.”
 
He took a deep breath.  “On the other side of the matter is the glaring fact
that Compass Rose and Pathfinder have done more to advance our aims in certain
areas, and have brought us more positive publicity, in just three days, than we
have managed in that many years.  They are a hugely valuable asset to us, and
by all appearances, they are willing to work with us, when a teleporter of his
capability could easily have taken his daughter and simply vanished off our
radar.”
 
He took two steps forward, his hands clasped behind his back.  “You want my
recommendation, Director Piggot?  Here it is.  We cover the whole thing up.  It
never happened.  We move on.”
 
A ringing silence ensued.  Aegis stared at the armoured hero as if he had just
sprouted a second head.
 
Director Piggot cleared her throat.  “I … am moved to agree with you,
Armsmaster.”  She paused.  “Punishing them would gain us nothing, and a threat
of punishment against Taylor may well incite Danny to flee, to turn villain
with his daughter.”  There was a moment of silence, as each of them considered
the ramifications of that horrifying concept.
 
“As you can imagine, we do not want that to happen,” Director Piggot went on.
“So.  Each of you has expressed positive views toward Pathfinder and Compass
Rose.  Does anyone have a negative opinion of the idea of covering up this
matter?”
 
Aegis cleared his throat.
 
Each of the elder heroes looked at him.  He appeared to wish to sink through
the floor.
 
“Uh, I’m not saying no,” he said hesitantly.  “Like I said, I like Taylor, and
her dad seems to be a stand-up guy too.  But … can we … do we …
really do that?  Cover up stuff like this?”
 
Director Piggot smiled thinly.  “Carlos,” she said, startling him with the use
of his name.  “This, too, is a leadership thing.  Sometimes … you have to know
when to do what is not done.”
 
She took a deep breath, and, incredibly, seemed to relax.  “Well, then, lady
and gentlemen, we are of one mind.  Aegis.  You will tell the Wards, especially
Gallant, that Taylor is adopted, and that she’s really sixteen; a slip-up with
the paperwork.  Not blatantly, not openly.  Just … if he speaks to you on the
matter, let it slip.”
 
She paused, thinking.  “Miss Militia, you are in charge of ensuring that Glenn
finds out about this, and that he never speaks of it to anyone.  We do not need
our PR man admonishing our star duo for being too close to one another.  He
also needs to spread the public rumour that they are either unrelated or
distant cousins, and that Daniel is only about twenty-five.”
 
She looked to Armsmaster.  “Colin, you need to speak to Dragon, and have her
adjust any public computer records to make it seem that Taylor is actually
sixteen, and was born less than nine months after Daniel married her mother. 
Raise the hint that she is not really his daughter. And I will speak to Panacea
on the matter.  See if she can help in any way.”
 
She looked around the room.  “Does anyone have any other suggestions?”
 
No-one did.
 
“Very well.  You have your orders. Dismissed.”
 
***
 
Taylor was still crying when they appeared in the living room.  Danny put his
helmet on the sofa, and put hers next to it. Smoke billowed; they were in the
bedroom.
 
Then he teleported each part of her costume off her body, until she was naked. 
His own costume followed, shortly afterward. Picking her up, he placed her on
the bed, pulled the covers over her.  Climbed in with her.  Held her while she
cried.
 
She quieted down, still clinging to him.  Held him close.  He stroked her hair,
kissed away her tears.
 
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said at last.  “I couldn’t help it.  I shouldn’t have
yelled at them, sworn at them like that.  I just felt so …”
 
He chuckled and kissed her gently.  “I think you saved us, kiddo.”
 
She looked confused.  He kissed her again.  She responded.
 
“How did I do that?” she asked.
 
“I would have tried logic,” he said caressing her body.  She began to move
against him, her hand moving down, cupping, caressing.  “I would have tried to
argue it out, point by point.  You threw their arguments in their faces. 
Hammered them.  Made sure they couldn’t ignore you.”
 
He kissed her again, deeply, his tongue touching hers.  She breathed heavily as
he stroked her soft labia, parting them with a finger.
 
He pushed the covers back, slid down the bed, parted her thighs.  “You made
them see what was important, what was right. So this … this is me thanking you.
Because it could have gone far worse.”
 
He lowered his mouth to her soft, slick-wet labia, and did not speak again. 
But his tongue was very busy indeed.
 
They made love far into the night.  Each time he came, she felt it; each time
she came, he felt it.  They ran roaring rapids of pleasure, floated in quiet
backwaters of bliss, exploded in geyser-bursts of sheer, soaring ecstasy.
 
But all good things must come to an end.  Eventually, they slept.
 
But even in his sleep, he held her in his arms, protectively, warding off the
ills of the world.
 
And even in her sleep, she felt his protective embrace.  And in her sleep … she
smiled.
***** Confrontations *****
Chapter Summary
     Amy and Vicky make a date, Pathfinder and Compass Rose clean up a
     loose end, and there is a clash with the Undersiders
The phone rang insistently at six the next morning; Danny finally clawed his
way out of a deep sleep to hear it shrilling in the kitchen.  He looked down;
Taylor lay with her head on his chest, her dark curly hair strewn everywhere. 
Her arms were about his waist.
 
The phone rang on.
 
He carefully moved her out of the way, rolled to the edge of the bed, and stood
up.  Teleporting to the kitchen, he picked up the phone even as he brought his
bathrobe to him.
 
I'm going to have to get a cordless, he decided.
 
"Hebert household, Danny speaking," he mumbled. Tucking the phone under his
chin, he began to put on the robe.
 
"Pathfinder," said Director Piggot, on the other end of the phone.   "We need
you and Compass Rose, immediately.  Is she able to work?"
 
He stopped putting on the robe.  
 
"Uh, Director Piggot?" he asked stupidly.  
 
"Are you and Compass Rose able to work?" she asked sharply. Upstairs, he felt
Taylor's sleeping presence gain awareness, slipping into drowsiness and then to
wakefulness. He felt the pulse of alarm as she registered the fact that he was
not there, then the relief as she became fully aware of her surroundings and
his exact location.  
 
"Uh, sure," he replied.  "I guess.  But about yesterday ...?". Upstairs, the
warm presence that was Taylor got out of bed and padded to the bathroom.
 
"What about yesterday?" she asked. "Nothing untoward happened yesterday. 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose are members in good standing of the Protectorate
and Wards respectively.". She paused.  "As for what didn't happen, we will
address that at a later date. For now, I need you two in my office in ten
minutes.". Without farther ado, she hung up.
 
Danny looked at the phone, just a little bemused, then hung it up as well.
 
***
 
Taylor looked up and smiled as her father appeared in the bathroom.  She wasn't
startled; his teleports never surprised her any more. "Something's up, isn't
it?" she said as she stood to wipe herself and flush the toilet.
 
He nodded, turning the shower on. "Apparently you managed to argue yesterday
into not happening.  The Director wants us on deck in ten minutes."
 
She giggled and hugged him, then stepped into the shower as he stepped up to
the toilet.  "So, two minutes to get dressed; that leaves us eight minutes for
a shower and a quickie."
 
"Closer to seven, by the time I'm finished here," he corrected her.
 
"Well, better make it a good one then," she grinned over her shoulder at him.
 
He joined her in the shower; they soaped each other down, then engaged in hot
slippery soapy shower sex before rinsing down. It was quick, but devastating;
Danny had to help Taylor out of the stall afterward, and his own knees weren't
so steady either.
 
"Oh god, Dad," she groaned as they towelled each other off, "let's do
this every morning."
 
He grinned and kissed her.  "It's a date."
 
***
 
Amy Dallon kissed her sister on the cheek as she sat down to breakfast. 
"Morning, Vicky," she said cheerfully.  "Morning, Mom.  Morning, Dad."
 
Victoria Dallon swallowed toast before replying. "Morning, Ames.". Mark Dallon
smiled and nodded a benign greeting from the head of the table, while Carol
Dallon contented herself with a nod that could have meant anything.
 
Amy buttered a piece of toast, then glanced at Victoria.  Her sister seemed to
be less than her usual chirpy, morning-person self at the moment.  "Something
the matter, Vicky?"
 
Her sister shook her head and sighed. "No, it's just Dean.  He told me last
night about the two new capes they've brought into the Protectorate and the
Wards, but there was something that he wasn't telling me, something that was
bothering him.  I asked him, but he wouldn't say.  We argued.". Her tone said
more than her voice.  It had been a bad argument, Amy could tell.
 
And I bet I know what he wasn't telling, Amy realised.  If it's the Heberts, he
must have picked up on the fact that they're in a relationship.  But he's
obviously been told to keep his mouth shut.

She felt a moment of concern.  I hope they're okay.  Danny would move heaven
and earth to protect Taylor.  

We've had no alerts, so I guess it's all good.
 
"Well, tell you what," she said brightly. "Why don't we have a day out together
on Saturday, just you and me?  We'll shop on the Boardwalk, eat horribly
fattening chocolate sundaes, maybe catch a movie, and you can tell me all about
how horrible and insensitive Dean can be."
 
Victoria Dallon eyed her sister warily.  I think she just roped me into that
date/not date thing, she realised. "Well ..." she temporised.
 
Mark Dallon put down his newspaper and smiled. "I think that's a great idea,"
he said approvingly.  "Amy, that's really nice of you to support your sister
like that.". He raised a finger.  "In fact, I'll give you each fifty dollars to
spend on yourselves while you're out."
 
Amy smiled at Mark, while Vicky glanced at him, just a little surprised.  "Uh,
thanks, Dad," she said hesitantly. "I guess ... it’s a date, then.". She could
have bitten her tongue the moment the word escaped her lips, but it had been
said and could not now be unsaid.
 
And a quick glance sideways at her sister's look of secret delight - no, she
didn't miss that, did she? - showed her that she could not easily retract what
she had said.
 
I could tell her that it's not actually a date, later, and she would accept
that, but it would be mean to her, and it would feel like going back on my
word.  
 
An internal, resigned, sigh.
 
Well, I guess it's a date after all.  If she's good, she gets her kiss.

Oh well, it could be worse.  She could be a terrible kisser.
 
And look at how happy it's made her.  I can't take that away from her now.
 
She smiled at Amy.  "Thanks, Ames.  Saturday it is."
 
And strangely, she found herself rather looking forward to it.
 
***
 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose appeared in front of Director Piggot's desk
approximately twenty seconds before the required time. Their costumes were
immaculate, although her dark curly hair hung damply down her back, instead of
being collected in a bun under her helmet.  Piggot decided to let that go; it
was a very minor thing, after all.
 
"We have Jack Slash's current location surrounded," she began without
preamble.  "The men on the ground are waiting on a go order, but we want to
ensure that he's still on site, and ascertain the status of any hostages.". She
handed a sheet of paper to Taylor.  "These are the details we have on the
occupants of that house."
 
Taylor looked it over, her free hand holding her father’s.  She absorbed the
details, built a gestalt for each person.  The parents were easy; the DMV had
supplied driver’s license photos.  She had to take the most time on the written
description of the young child.
 
Director Piggot watched Compass Rose scan the sheet. Behind the goggles, her
eyes went momentarily unfocused, then she blinked once.
 
“He’s still in the house.  All three people on this paper are still alive,
although the husband has several serious wounds, probably caused by Jack Slash,
probably to keep the wife in line.  He’s been bandaged, but some of the
bandages have been cut.  He’s lying on what looks like a sofa in the living
room.”
 
She took a deep breath.  “The child is unharmed, just as the wife is, but I
think Jack suspects something.  He keeps looking out the windows.  His wounds
do not appear to be hampering him too badly.”
 
She raised her head.  “Who’s on duty in the infirmary today?”
 
Piggot did not question her.  “Corpsman Harwell.  Red hair, freckles …”
 
“Got him,” Taylor interrupted her.  “That’s where the infirmary is then …
right. Dad, when he goes into the back room …”
 
“The baby?” he asked her.
 
“If we grab her prematurely, it may alert him.” 
 
“If we don’t, he may kill her out of spite.”
 
Director Piggot spoke up unexpectedly.  “Can you get men into the house?”
 
Danny nodded.  “Easily.”
 
Piggot called up a personnel file on the computer, spun the monitor around. 
“This is Commander Evans.  He’s in charge.  He should be around the command
post, out of sight of the house, of course.  I’ll send him your clearances.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Got him. Tell Harwell to expect one casualty, soon.”
 
Piggot raised an eyebrow.  “Only one?”
 
It was Danny who spoke, his voice grim.  “He isn’t going to get a chance to
hurt anyone else.”
 
***
 
They appeared at the command post, just as Evans was putting down the radio
comm unit.  He wa a tall, spare man, in his late forties, but with that hard,
fit body that never seems to age.  “Compass Rose and Pathfinder, I presume?” he
asked.
 
Danny nodded.  “We need six men, armoured and armed.  And I presume you have
others covering the back door?”
 
Evans nodded, and spoke into his comm.  “I do, but I doubt he’ll come out that
way.”
 
Taylor worked to keep her face straight.  “He might change his mind.”
 
Evans looked at her a little dubiously.  She held Danny’s hand tightly, for
reassurance; all of a sudden, she was a lot less sure of the plan.
 
The six men arrived,  Danny arranged them, each with a hand on the next man’s
shoulder, guns up and ready.  “Your target will be in front of you when you
arrive,” he said.  “You are free to fire as soon as you see him.”
 
They waited; Taylor had Danny shift them a little around to the right.  They
waited a little more. One of the men fidgeted; Evans snapped a command.  The
man stilled.
 
Taylor’s head came up.  “On three,” she said.  Everyone came to full alert.
 
“One.  Two. Thr-“
 
They vanished in a puff of purple-brown smoke.
 
***
 
Jack Slash prowled through the house, his thoughts dark. They were out there,
he knew.  He could feel them.  The woman would be no trouble, and the baby was
extra insurance. But as moving hostages, difficult. Easier to slash their
throats and make a run for it.  Kill as many as he could before –
 
“ – ee!”
 
The air shifted behind him; purple-brown smoke billowed out. Guns levelled out
of it, pointed at him.  He swung the knife, slashed, dived for the door.  Shots
slammed out.  Some hit him.  He hit the door, burst through it, rolled on the
ground. More shots hit him.  Too many.  He tried to reach his knees, to swing
the knife, but a large man in a PRT uniform stepped up and levelled an assault
rifle.  He reached for something defiant to say –
 
***
 
There was one final shot from outside.  A burly sergeant appeared in the
doorway.  “It’s safe to come out now.  He’s dead.”
 
Neither Taylor nor Danny took him up on the offer.
 
***
 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose sat in front of Director Piggot’s desk.
 
“You’ve done well for a first official outing.”  Her tone was approving.  “All
hostages saved, the bad guy dead.”  She paused.  “Jack Slash dead.”
 
Danny nodded.  “So what happens next?” he asked.
 
Taylor’s stomach rumbled.  “Hopefully, involving food,” she said.  “We didn’t
get breakfast.”
 
Director Piggot nodded.  “Go get something to eat,” she said.  “Be back in an
hour.  We have the TV spot to shoot.”
 
Danny and Taylor looked at each other.
 
“TV spot?” they asked simultaneously.
 
Piggot nodded again.  “Just a ten-minute spot.  It’ll be on the news tonight. 
Miss Militia will introduce you as the two new members of the Wards and the
Protectorate.”
 
“Wow,” said Taylor.  “And so ... what will we need to say?”
 
Director Piggot inclined her head.  “Not much.  Just your names, and a little
about your powers.”  She raised a finger.  “Downplay them.  Do not show off,
like you did with Aegis.  Bad guys watch the news too.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Okay,” she said.  “I got it.”  She stood up from the chair. 
“Uh .. I meant to say earlier ... thanks for ... giving us this chance ...”
 
Director Piggot shook her head.  “No thanks necessary,” she said.  “It was a
unanimous decision.”  She waved a hand, a shooing motion.  “Go. Eat.  We do not
want your stomach rumbling on national TV.”
 
Danny grinned behind his mask, grasped Taylor’s hand.  “One hour?” he said.
 
“One hour,” she confirmed.
 
Billowing smoke, and they were gone.
 
***
 
They were standing in the living room once more.
 
“Actually, Dad,” said Taylor as she took her helmet off, “if you just stood
there and teleported to the same location over and over, it might make a fair-
sized cloud of smoke, or fog, or whatever that stuff is.”
 
“Huh,” said Danny, likewise removing his headgear.  “I’ll have to try that
sometime.  What would you like to eat?”
 
Taylor grinned, dropping her overcoat on the sofa, and undoing the top of the
costume proper.  “I don’t care.  Just start serving it up.”
 
They ate in companionable silence, sandwiches and fruit from the fridge.  They
didn’t need anything fancy, and nor did they want it, because another urge was
starting to make itself known.
 
Taylor had undone her top and let it sag open, so that he could see her
Victoria’s Secret underwear beneath.  Leaning in, she kissed her father
lingeringly.  “Do you want to make love wearing our costumes?” she asked
huskily.  “Masks and all?”
 
Danny felt suddenly aroused.  “Let me make some ... adjustments,” he
suggested.  There was a puff of smoke from her chest, and then her breasts were
bare within the open top; her bra was in his other hand. Then he slid his hand
down inside her pants, copping an extremely gratuitous feel as he did so, and
did the same with her panties.
 
A burst of smoke heralded his own underwear falling to the floor beside him. 
She loosened her belt, lowered her pants to show her bare buttocks and her
dripping sex.
 
“My room,” she murmured.  “Bend me over my bed, and take me hard.”
 
They were in her room, wearing their masks.  He grabbed her, pushed her face
down on the bed, pulled her pants down.  His hands cupped her ass, sliding
between her welcoming thighs, caressing and rubbing her soft wet vagina.  She
reached into her top, squeezing and pinching her breasts.
 
“Oh please, yes, Dad,” she moaned.  “Please.  Do it like the time we nearly got
caught.  I need to feel it.”
 
She arched her back and groaned as he slid his penis between her distended
labia, and began to thrust into her.  Gradually, he began to increase his
tempo, until he was rocking her forward on to the bed with every stroke, making
her gasp with arousal.
 
The very novelty of doing it with the costumes on told, and she was soon
climaxing loudly.  He held her hips, feeling her orgasms washing through his
body, pushing his penis into her, over and over and over again, his arousal
mounting exponentially, as he felt her vaginal canal clenching around him.
 
All too soon, he pulled her hard on to his penis, driving deep into her
slippery wet depths, and came, spurting wad after wad of  hot white semen into
her quivering womb.  His climax blasted all coherent thought from their minds;
all that they were, was what they were doing, and doing it over and over again.
 
She collapsed on the the bed, panting hard, as he slumped on to the bed next to
her, slowly letting his penis slide out from between her thighs. Even that
little bit of movement afforded her a little extra pleasure, and she sighed
softly.
 
Lifting away the lower part of his mask, she kissed him. “I love you, Dad,” she
said softly. “I can’t say it enough.  You are so wonderful to me.”
 
He held her tightly.  “And I love you too, Taylor.”  He grinned, and took the
helmet off again.  “Suppose we get out of these, and have a shower now?”
 
“Just a shower?” she asked with a return grin.
 
He chuckled, teleporting her costume off her.  “We’ll see.”
 
***
 
They got back to base three minutes ahead of schedule; this time, Taylor’s hair
was properly bundled up under her helmet.  Piggot approved; the less visual
cues as to her identity, the better.  Of  course, once all the countermeasures
were in place, it would be less of a problem, but Emily Piggot had always been
a belt-and-braces sort of person.
 
“It’s being shot at the TV news studio, downtown,” she told them. “Miss Militia
is on site.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Okay, got it.”
 
Danny looked at the Director.  “Did you want to come along?” he asked.  “I can
have you back here after the shoot.”
 
She shook her head regretfully.  “I have far too much paperwork to deal with,”
she told him. “But I will take you up on that, sometime.”
 
***
 
Miss Militia looked up as they arrived.  “Ah,” she said.  “Good.  You’re
here.”  She shook Danny’s hand, and then Taylor’s.  “Good work with Jack
Slash.”
 
Danny shrugged.  “The PRT did all the work; we just expedited.”
 
She nodded.  “It’s called teamwork for a reason.  Commander Evans had some very
nice things to say in his report.”
 
Taylor grinned.  “He was a lot happier after it was over, I’ll say that.”
 
The older woman nodded again.  “Good officers are always happy when their men
come through without a scratch.”  She looked searchingly at them. “So how do
you feel about your first major action?”
 
“I’m just happy no-one else got hurt,” said Taylor promptly.
 
Danny nodded.  “Something like that,” he said, putting an  arm around Taylor’s
shoulders.
 
“That can be a concern,” said Miss Militia.  “I’d like to sit down with the two
of you sometime, and work out tactics and strategies to use with your powers.”
 
Taylor grinned.  “That could be really cool.”
 
Danny nodded.  “I think ... I would really like that.”
 
“Good,” said Miss Militia.  She looked around.  “Ah, they’re calling us.  Let’s
get you into position.”
 
***
 
They were dabbing powder on to Taylor’s nose and cheeks as a last-minute bid to
deal with glare, and giving her instructions at the same time.
 
Basically, as far as she could see, they boiled down to ‘wait till Miss Militia
begins to introduce us, then teleport in’.  But for some reason, they seemed to
want to dress it up in a dozen different extra options, then dress it down into
baby talk.
 
She wanted to snap, to tell them to leave her alone, that she had it.  But she
didn’t, because this was her first TV spot, and she didn’t want to make a bad
impression.  And then she felt Danny’s hand resting gently on her shoulder, and
it made all the difference.
 
***
 
“And allow me to introduce ...”
 
On th screen, Miss Militia gestured at an empty spot on the stage.  A drumroll
began to sound.
 
“What’s going on?” asked Regent, wandering into the room.
 
“Shh!” said Tattletale.  “A couple new capes are joining the Protectorate and
the Wards. They’re introducing them now.”
 
The drumroll built to a crescendo, then just as it ended, there was a billow of
purple-brown smoke at the spot indicated.  As it dissipated, two figures could
be seen standing there, a taller masculine figure with his hand on the shoulder
of a shorter feminine figure.
 
“Damn,” said Grue admiringly.  “Nice entrance.”
 
“Eh, I’ve seen better,” said Regent disparagingly.
 
Bitch said nothing, barely even looking at the screen as she groomed her dogs.
 
The spot went on; the two capes seated themselves with Miss Militia, and were
introduced as Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  
 
“Sh!” said Tattletale suddenly.  “Holy shit.  It’s her. It’s them!”
 
Grue looked at her enquiringly.  “Them who?”
 
Tattletale’s eyes were glued to the screen.  “The girl and her dad from the
mall, you know, just before Christmas?  The ones that were holding hands?”
 
Grue frowned.  “You said something about how they were having sex?”
 
Tattletale nodded.  “Well, that’s them, and they’re still having sex.  And from
all appearances, they’ve gotten better with practice.”
 
“Holy shit,” said Grue.  “And the Protectorate and the Wards are letting
them join?”
 
“Maybe they don’t know,” hazarded Regent.
 
Tattletale shook her head.  “Oh, they know,” she said, watching Miss Militia. 
“They know, and they either don’t care, or don’t care enough to do anything
about it.”
 
“God damn,” muttered Regent.  “That could really hurt them if it got out.”
 
Tattletale got up to go to the kitchen; she was just coming back when she heard
the rattle of keys from Regent’s laptop.
 
“Oh shit,” she said.  “You didn’t just ... fuck, what did you say to them?”
 
Regent chuckled; even Grue was grinning and shaking his head. “Just shaking
their tree a bit, is all.”
 
Tattletale leaned over and read the message Regent had sent to Compass Rose’s
email address.
 
Hey, mall girl.

Still fucking your daddy?

Have a nice day.

R
 
Her face drained white.  “Fuck!” she gasped.  “Everyone, up!  Grab what shit
you can carry! We’ve got to get the fuck out of here!”
 
Regent looked up at her.  “Why?” he asked.  “It’s an anonymous account.  No way
they’ll trace it.”
 
“Weren’t you listening?” she shouted at him.  “She finds things.  And that
might mean people, too.  Or the laptop you just sent that from.”  She pointed
her finger at him.  “And you just got her total and undivided attention.”
 
Grue started to get up.  “How long do we have?” he asked.
 
“I don’t know,” said Tattletale.  “But we have to assume less than half an
hour.”
 
Less than seven minutes later, there was a burst of purple-brown smoke that
filled half the room.  When it cleared, half a dozen PRT troops were standing
there, training guns on all four members of the Undersiders.  Two more guns
were aimed at Bitch’s dogs.  Slightly behind and between the PRT men were the
now-familiar forms of Pathfinder and Compass Rose.
 
Pathfinder was the first to speak.
 
“Hi.  We'd like a word with you.”
 
***
 
Grue shouted in alarm and darkness washed out from him, filling the room.
 
“Grue!” shouted Compass Rose.  “I can see you!  Stand down!”
 
He looked her way.  She was holding a pistol, small enough to fit in her hand. 
It was an awkward, untrained grip, but the barrel was pointed dead-centre at
him.  He stepped to the side.  The barrel shifted to follow him.
 
Oh.  Crap.
 
“We’re here to talk!” shouted Pathfinder.  “No hostilities!”
 
“What about all the guns?” demanded Regent, out of the darkness.
 
“That’s just to get your attention!” shouted Compass Rose. “Now stand down.  I
haven’t shot you yet; I’m not about to, unless someone does something stupid!”
 
Gradually, reluctantly, Grue reduced his darkness until it roiled around his
face and body.
 
“So talk,” he said.
 
***
 
The rifles were held at port arms; none of the Undersiders were threatened by
them, but the awareness that they could be was always there. Compass Rose had
put her little pistol away, and now she and Pathfinder stood side by side,
facing the four Undersiders.
 
“Who sent the mail?” asked Compass Rose quietly.
 
Regent didn’t speak, but Tattletale nudged him.  “Yeah, me,” he said
grudgingly.
 
She stepped forward to confront him.  “That was a really fucking stupid thing
to do,” she said very softly.  “That thing that you said?  The Protectorate is
working very hard to suppress even the concept of that.  And you just came out
and said it.”
 
Tattletale was staring at her.  “Christ,” she blurted.  “The reason they’re so
hot to keep it a secret ... you’re better than –“
 
Abruptly, Pathfinder was right in front of her, in the midst of a cloud of
dissipating purple-brown smoke.  “That sentence had better end right there,” he
said very firmly.  She looked at his tinted goggles, his face-concealing mask,
and thought better of continuing.
 
He spoke again, loud enough for each of the Undersiders to hear.
 
“You four kids have two pieces of information that the PRT wishes to keep well
under wraps.  This can go two ways.  The first way is that we deliver you gift-
wrapped to Director Piggot –“
 
“Yeah, right,” sneered Regent.
 
Compass Rose had not shifted from her position in front of him. “You’ve already
made one serious error of judgement tonight.  Don’t make it two.”
 
Tattletale nodded urgently.  “Regent.  Shut the fuck up.”
 
Compass Rose nodded approvingly.  “As Pathfinder was saying, we can hand you
over and you will just ... disappear.  Or, we can do the other thing.”
 
“Which is?” asked Grue warily.
 
“We leave,” she said simply.  “You go about your business.  But you never,
ever tell anyone about what you know. And we never, ever make it our business
to make sure you are never seen again.”
 
Regent snorted.  “And tomorrow, or the next day, these guys come back with some
buddies and kick in our door anyway.”
 
Pathfinder didn’t even look over that way.  “Sergeant Morris!”
 
“Sir!”
 
“Do you have any idea of where you are right now?”
 
“Sir, no, sir!  I’m from Miami, sir!”
 
“Are you going to be telling anybody anything about what’s happened in this
room, Morris?”
 
“Sir, I don’t even believe we were in this room, sir!”
 
Pathfinder nodded.  “And so.”
 
Tattletale stared.  “Christ,” she whispered.  “You’ve got that much pull with
–“
 
He wagged a finger.  She shut up.
 
“So,” said Compass Rose.  “We have an agreement?”  She looked around at them. 
“Just remember.  From here on in, no matter where you go, no matter what you
look like, I can find you, and I will find you if I have to.”
 
Grue nodded reluctantly.  “Agreed.”
 
Tattletale nodded as well.  “Agreed.”
 
Bitch glowered.  “Fucking okay.  I didn’t even know –“
 
“Bitch!” hissed Grue.
 
“Fine.  Agreed.”
 
They looked at Regent.  “Yeah, okay.  Agreed.”
 
Compass Rose took Pathfinder’s hand.  “And we agree to not tell anyone about
this base.”  They stepped back to the PRT soldiers.
 
Pathfinder nodded to the Undersiders.  “Be good.  And if you can’t be good –“
 
Compass Rose chimed in with “ – don’t get caught.”
 
There was a billow of purple-brown smoke.
 
And then they were gone, the PRT soldiers with them.
 
Grue sagged limply down to the sofa again.  Tattletale sat beside him.
 
“That was fucking scary,” said Grue.
 
Tattletale nodded.  “And it could have gone a lot worse.”
 
“Were they really all that?” asked Regent.
 
Tattletale looked up at him.  “Alec,” she said softly.  “They were holding
back.”
 
“Right,” said Regent.  “Okay.  New resolution.  Not pissing them off. Ever.”
 
“Amen to fucking that,” agreed Grue.
 
***
 
Bitch groomed her dogs.  She had already decided on that course of action.  
 
If they don’t attack me ... I won’t attack them.
 
In the face of a stronger foe, it was the only sensible course.
***** Connections *****
Chapter Summary
     The clash from the Undersiders is revisited, and Taylor goes back to
     school
"Hurry up, Dad!" called out Taylor.  "Our TV spot's coming up soon!"
 
She sat back on the sofa, her costume on but unfastened to a certain degree;
under it, she wore the bikini that Danny liked so much.  She intended to
surprise him with it later.
 
A billow of smoke heralded her father's appearance, and he sat beside her on
the sofa. He also wore his costume, and she noted that he had undone it for
greater access as well.  She grinned to herself; Tonight should be fun.
 
As the TV spot began, she fiddled with the new smartphone she had been issued;
among other functions, it allowed her to go online.  Danny had a similar one,
but he wasn't as enthralled with his as she was with hers.
 
During the course of the TV spot, her official Wards email address was put up,
along with the one for Pathfinder.
 
And then her phone pinged.  You have one (1) new email message, it said.
 
"Hey, Dad," she said with a grin.  "Check it out.  My first fan mail.". She
tapped the envelope icon, and the message opened up.
 
Hey, mall girl, she read.  Still fucking your dad?  Have a nice day.  R.
 
She went cold all over.  Danny's head whipped around as he felt the terror and
anger that surged through her body. He saw her staring at the phone; it puffed
into smoke and appeared in his hand.  His jaw clenched as he read it.
 
"Fuck," he grated.  "Do you know who sent this?"
 
"No - yes," she amended her statement.  "That girl in the mall on Christmas
Eve.  She knew.". She concentrated on the memory, a freckled face, dirty blonde
hair in a fancy braid, a knowing, vulpine smile.  It unfolded into a face, an
image, a location.
 
I know that face.  I know that location.
 
She had found her first by sheer fluke; looking up missing persons, she had
located one Sarah Livsey, wearing a strange purple and black costume.  Looking
through the Parahumans Online boards, she had picked out Tattletale, of the
Undersiders.  The names and costumes of the other Undersiders had given her
more hits, until she had solid locks on each of them, and a strong possibility
for a base location.
 
She warned me, then.  Why is she messing with me now?  And why 'R'?  Unless
it's to throw me off.

She began fastening her costume, as did Danny.  Playtime could come later. 
This was serious business.  
 
Ten seconds later, her helmet on, she faced her father.  He leaned down and
kissed her; the kiss held love and affection and a promise for later.  Then he
teleported them both out of there.
 
***
 
There was a burst of purple-brown smoke, and the Heberts, in full costume,
appeared in Director Piggot's office.  She looked up with barely a start of
surprise.
 
"If I recall correctly, you're off duty tonight," she said with just a touch of
asperity.
 
"This is serious," said Danny, in what he was coming to think of as his
'Pathfinder voice', slower paced, and with more accent on the strong
consonants. He handed over Taylor's phone.  
 
Piggot read the message, glanced over to where the TV spot was still playing on
the small screen on her desk, and then back to Taylor.  "Fast work," she
commented.  "Do you have a line on a suspect?"
 
Taylor nodded tightly.  "I think it's the Undersiders.  I met Tattletale once
before, and she knows about me and Dad."
 
"I see," said the Director, not bothering to ask for details.  Those could come
later.  "What do you intend to do about it?"
 
"Throw a scare into them," said Danny promptly.  "Can we borrow half a dozen
men who can be trusted to be discreet?"
 
Piggot smiled thinly.  "Oh, I think we can manage that.". She keyed her desk
comm.  "Sergeant Morris!  You and five men who can keep their mouths shut, to
the armoury, on the double!". She got up from behind her desk and walked
carefully around it to stand in front of them.  "I'll take you up on that offer
of a lift, now," she said.
 
Taylor concentrated on the name 'Sergeant Morris'.  There was only one person
who went by that specific designation in the Brockton Bay PRT tower, and he
appeared in her mind's eye, unfolded into a mental image, standing at attention
in front of a door with five other blurry images; people, she knew.  Ones she
had not met yet.
 
***
 
Morris blinked as the sudden billow of purple-brown smoke gave way to three
figures; the Director and two capes, whom he vaguely recognised as the two new
intakes; they'd just been watching the TV spot on them.
 
"Director Piggot, ma'am!" he snapped, saluting.  The other men did likewise.
 
"At ease," she responded, returning the salute.  "This is Pathfinder, and
that’s Compass Rose. They have my highest confidence.  They have a mission for
you. You will draw rifles, one magazine each.  You will follow their orders in
the field.  You will follow their lead.  You are not to fire unless fired
upon.  Are there any questions?"
 
"Ah, yes, ma'am," said Morris promptly.  "What is the aim of this mission?"
 
"The Undersiders have pulled our tail, Sergeant," she told him. "Compass Rose
and Pathfinder wish to explain to them why they should never do that
again.  Your job is to make sure they listen to reason."
 
He nodded once.  "Roger that, ma'am."
 
The tall cape, Pathfinder, cleared his throat.  "Sergeant, I have one
question.  What's military speak for 'don't do anything stupid'?"
 
Morris smiled slightly.  "That would be 'stand down', sir."
 
Pathfinder nodded.  "Ah. Thank you, Sergeant."
 
Piggot broke in, even as the men were taking rifles from the racks. "Also, one
sidearm each for the capes, I believe.  Just in case."
 
Morris nodded.  With a practised eye, he picked out two pistols in clip-on
holsters; a standard sized automatic for Pathfinder and a smaller pistol for
Compass Rose.
 
"These are both Glocks," he told them briefly.  "No external safety catch. 
Point and shoot.  Pull back the slide to chamber the first round.". He gave
them a severe glare. "These are not toys.  Wave them around like you're playing
cowboys and indians, and I will take them off you."
 
They nodded obediently.  He turned to Piggot and saluted.  "Ready to go,
ma'am."
  
She nodded.  "Go."
 
***
 
They teleported into the Undersiders' base.  They were frantically packing up
gear.
 
Danny couldn't resist.  "Hi. We’d like a word with you."
 
The looks on their faces were priceless.
 
***
 
Afterward, once the weapons had been handed back in - Danny had not even had to
pull his from the holster - they sat in Director Piggot's office.
 
"So, do you think they'll be good?" asked the Director. "Or should we think
about pulling them in?"
 
Danny shook his head.  "No, I think they got the message.". He frowned.  "They
were just kids."
 
"Kids," Director Piggot reminded him, "with two murder charges to their name."
 
Taylor looked pensive.  "Maybe I should have made an offer for them to join the
Wards," she mused.
 
It was Piggot's turn to shake her head.  "After you essentially kicked in their
door and pointed guns in their faces?  Either their pride would demand they say
no, or they'd see it as an 'or else' threat, and resent it.  No, it wasn't the
right time or place."
 
Taylor nodded.  "I guess you're right.". She stood up; Danny followed suit.  "I
guess we'll see you tomorrow then."
 
Director Piggot nodded.  "Good night to you.". She watched them clasp hands
before the billow of smoke engulfed them, and they were gone.
 
***
 
Danny sat on the edge if his bed, pulling his boots off.  He could teleport his
clothes off, but sometimes it was nice just to do it by hand.  One boot dropped
to the floor, and he started on the other.
 
Taylor had excused herself to the bathroom as soon as they got in; she hadn't
come out yet.  Her mood indicated delighted anticipation; he could not wait to
find out what she was up to.
 
She appeared in the doorway to his bedroom, silhouetted from behind.  He
blinked; she was wearing just her helmet, the light coat from her costume, her
boots ... and those naughty, naughty bikini pants. The coat hung open; he could
see her bare breasts within.
 
"Pathfinder," she said in a sultry voice.  "I've been a very bad girl.  Maybe
you should punish me.". She hooked a thumb into the briefs and pulled them down
just far enough to make them thoroughly indecent. "My butt really needs to be
punished."
 
He stood up; his pants puffed into smoke, vanished, reappeared three feet to
his left, fell to the floor.  He stepped forward, his erection swelling as he
took in Taylor's calculatedly slutty appearance.
 
She came into his arms, reaching down to stroke and caress his throbbing penis.
He ran his hands over her breasts, feeling the erect nipples, around her sides
under the coat, and down to her buttocks.  Sliding his hands inside her bikini
pants, he ran his fingers between her taut buttocks, making her gasp and rub
herself against him.  She had slathered herself with lube, he discovered with
rising arousal.  Two of his fingers slid easily into her anus, and she arched
her back and kissed him hard.
 
He bent her over the bed.  She looked back over her shoulder at him as he
pulled outward on the strings of the bikini pants; they came undone, falling
away, leaving her naked butt vulnerable, inviting, ready for him.
 
She felt a thrill of anticipation, of arousal.  He was always a considerate
lover, even when he was being deliberately rough, and his touch turned her on
at such a fundamental level that she barely even thought about it any more. 
From the first time she had given in to the impulse, had urged him to make love
to her, had accepted him into her body, had given herself to him, he had
treated her with such gentleness and kindness that she had wanted to
cry.  Had cried, on a couple of occasions.
 
And even with this act, that they had thought impossible, he was managing to
give her pleasure unimaginable.  With her insistence, and his tenderness and
care, they had managed it, and now, even as sore as it made her after the fact,
she still looked forward to it with positive eagerness.
 
He looked at her, his hands caressing her buttocks, feeling where the lube had
been applied thickly so as to be ready for him.  He loved her; had loved her as
his daughter for all of her life before this point, and still did in point of
fact. The fact that she now shared his bed, and shared her body with him, did
not cause him to love her one iota less.
 
She had been so touchingly eager to please him, to do what she thought he
wanted to do with her, that it had almost broken his heart, before they got
their powers. They had tried anal once, at her suggestion, and it had proven
too uncomfortable for her.  But since their powers had triggered, their bodies
were so in tune that she was able to relax herself at his intrusion, and even
reach some startlingly powerful orgasms.
 
Teasingly, he slid his penis down between her parted thighs, sliding it between
her swollen labia, deliberately not penetrating her despite her whimpers of
desire, pushing on to rub the rigidly erect glans over her clitoris.  She cried
out softly as a small orgasm rippled through her body; his knees nearly buckled
as he caught the feedback, and he almost came all over her.
 
Sliding his erection up between her labia, he pressed gently at her vulva,
letting himself slide just a little way into her oh so tight, hot, wet vagina. 
She rocked backward, seeking him inside her, but he held her hips tightly.
 
Pulling out again, despite every urge to thrust his rampant penis to the hilt
within her willing slippery depths, he lifted himself slightly and pressed the
tip of his lubricated erection against the equally-lubricated opening to her
rectum.
 
He gasped as the delicate puckered rosette of her anus relaxed and opened to
allow him entry, the tight sphincter folding around the head of his penis and
sliding down along his shaft as he penetrated her most secret depths.  
 
She gasped as he slid inside her; even the repeated experiences that they had
shared had not fully accustomed her to the feeling of his thoroughly erect
penis inside her anal passage, and he felt just as huge as he had when he had
first penetrated her in this fashion.
 
For his part, the tightness of her somewhat stretched bottom around his
invading cock was, if anything, more arousing than the first time they had
managed it.  The knowledge that his daughter, his lover, enjoyed the act just
as much as he did was a considerable turn-on.
 
Between the slickness of her secretions on his his engorged penis, and the
lubricant which she had so carefully applied to her tightest orifice, he was
able to penetrate her easily, sliding into her inch by inch, until his
testicles rested gently against her distended labia.  He throbbed inside her;
by now she had her face resting upon her crossed arms on the bed, making tiny
whimpering sounds of utter ecstasy.
 
He drew partially out of her, then thrust forward once more, his erect penis
sliding gently but firmly into the tightly stretched opening between her
buttocks, to her gasping delight.
 
The sensation of penetrating her anally was nothing short of incredible; he
wanted to drive in hard between her buttocks, to plunder that delicate orifice,
to experience to the full the tightness and friction that her ass could bestow
upon his thrusting cock.  But he didn't, because he knew it would cause her
pain, and perhaps injury, lubrication or no lubrication.  So he stroked in and
out of her, slowly, steadily, feeling his climax approaching, holding it off as
long as he could, deliberately slowing down his thrusts to draw out the moment.
 
The sensation of having him sliding his penis between her buttocks and deep
inside her ass was amazing.  Vaginal sex was insanely arousing, but having his
erection fill her up so completely was mind-blowing all on its own.  She was
fully aware that she was only just able to accommodate him, but the minor
discomfort at being stretched so widely was overcome and utterly subsumed by
the pleasure of having him sliding in and out of her tightest hole.
 
He could not help himself; as his climax approached, he began to thrust harder
and faster into her.  For her part, her asshole having stretched to allow just
a little more free action, she thrust herself back at him, crying out again and
again as orgasmic pleasure began to ripple through her body, spreading out from
her tightly-stretched rectal passage.
 
His hands roamed over her body, squeezing a breast here, rubbing her clitoris
there, caressing her thigh, holding her close.  Every touch heightened her
pleasure, increased the intensity of her ongoing climax, which echoed back
through their shared link to him.  And then she hit a new high; this, and her
tightly clenching sphincter, drove him over the edge.  
 
Thrusting deeply into her, he came, spurting hot white semen deep into her
bowels, over and over, his hips pumping as he climaxed.  The blinding ecstasy
blasted through him, amplified by her own orgasms, and he came all the harder. 
His spectacular orgasm was reflected back to her and she screamed as it
overwhelmed all her senses, whiting out her world, and making it feel as though
her every nerve ending was a conduit for pure pleasure and nothing else.
 
Groggily, he came back to himself.  He was slumped over her; she was lying
forward over the bed, face pressed to the covers, his penis still firmly
embedded deep within her twitching, pulsating asshole.
 
Slowly, carefully, he slid his deflating penis from her somewhat-abused anus.
She whimpered as he did so, but he could feel that this was more from pleasure
than pain.  He divested himself of the remains of his costume, and did the same
for her.  White trickles were still oozing from her slowly contracting anal
opening as he put the bikini pants on her, tying the strings with clumsy
fingers.  Then he placed her on the bed, turned out the lights, and climbed in
beside her.
 
***
 
She gradually came out of the blissful post-orgasmic daze to realise that the
lights were out, she was under the covers, and that she was once more in
Danny's arms.
 
“Good god, Dad,” she murmured, pulling him a little closer, “that was beyond
incredible.” The movement started a twinge in her ass, and she could feel the
gentle burning sensation that bespoke of far too much friction in a sensitive
area.
 
But oooh, it felt nice.
 
He kissed her gently on the lips.  “It was,” he replied.  “I’m glad we can only
do that once in a while.  Because if we could do it more often, I’d be dead of
a heart attack by now.”
 
She giggled sleepily.  “You and me both, Dad.  You and me both.”
 
She snuggled warmly in next to him as they both drifted off to sleep.  She
loved her Dad so much.
 
His arms encircled her protectively as his eyes closed.  He would hold her, and
protect her, just as long as he could. Because he loved her.
 
***
 
He was cooking breakfast the next morning when she came padding down the stairs
in her running gear and socks.
 
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he grinned as he leaned out of the kitchen.  “You were
really spark out this morning, so I decided to let you lie in a bit.”
 
“Thanks heaps, Dad,” she retorted.  “I’m gonna go for my run now.  Drop me off
at school after breakfast?”
 
“Sure,” he said.  The insurance was still coming back for the truck, and it was
still undriveable, but he wasn’t worried much about that at the moment.
 
She came over for a hug and a kiss, then headed out for her run.
 
***
 
There was still a residual soreness between her buttocks as she started down
the street, but it was more of a reminder than an actual spot of pain.  She
even managed to tune it out as she carried on her regular path, working up a
sweat and enjoying the morning.
 
Arriving back in good time to get her breakfast, she enjoyed a nice
companionable chat with her father before it was time to go to school.
 
***
 
These days, school was … different.  She didn’t know whether it was the way she
carried herself and looked at the world, or if it was the way word had gotten
around. A little of column A, and a little of column B, she expected.  
 
She had been locked into a locker filled with the most vile trash that could be
acquired in or around the school; and yet, here she was, walking around as if
nothing had happened.  More, she was walking tall while Sophia was gone
altogether and Emma and Madison were looking very hangdog indeed.  It was
enough to make people wonder.
 
Thanks, Dad, she thought.  Another one I owe you for.
 
Part of her new self-assurance came from her powers and her status as a Ward,
she knew.  But the larger part of it was from being with her father, of having
him in her life, there to back her up if and when she needed it.
 
She went to her locker, opened it.  It was spotless; even the damaged lock had
been replaced.  Emma and Madison were standing at their lockers, looking over
at her.  She grinned, reached into her bag, and pulled out the flute.  Putting
it to her lips, she played a few bars – about all she could play, to be honest
– and smiled at them, at the disbelief on their faces.
 
Armsmaster really did fix it properly, she thought.  Carefully, she placed it
on the shelf in her locker, placed her bag on the floor, pulled out her books,
and closed her locker.
 
With a smile on her face and a song in her heart, she walked straight past them
and on to her first class.
 
***
 
She was sitting in Computer Studies class, with one window logged into the
Parahumans Online board, reading the chatter about herself and Pathfinder.  The
speculation had been intense; some had them as brother and sister, others as
husband and wife.  Some did advance the opinion that they were father and
daughter.  But the general opinion was that they were simply two people who had
teamed up and chosen to wear similar costumes.  

The one guy who had posted a fairly inarticulate screed about how they
were obviously father and daughter, and probably having an incestuous
relationship, had been slammed so hard she was mildly surprised there wasn’t a
splatter of blood in the middle of his post.  So many people had flamed him for
even thinking such a thing that he had logged off shortly thereafter.
 
And then, over her email address, the site popped up a message for her.
 
R says sorry.  Can we talk?

Tt.
 
Intrigued, she typed a message back.
 
Apology accepted.  About what?

CR
 
She focused her attention, and saw Tattletale, wearing ordinary clothes, typing
at a computer in the library, of all places. Why use that, when she has
internet at home?
 
The next message popped up.
 
Stuff.  Really. Need to talk f2f.  Pls?

Tt.
 
Taylor blinked.  She really wants to talk.
 
Saturday.  Boardwalk. We’ll find you.
 
She paused before hitting Send.
 
We’ll bring one other.  No tricks.

CR
 
The message popped up almost immediately.
 
See you there.

Tt.
 
She closed the page and leaned back, staring at her computer.  Now
what’s that all about?
***** Combat Rescue *****
Chapter Summary
     Panacea makes some modifications, Lisa makes a connection with
     Pathfinder and Compass Rose, and a war begins
“So how’s this supposed to work again?” asked Taylor, looking dubiously at
Panacea.
 
Panacea looked at Director Piggot.  “Wait a moment,” she said. “You never told
her?”
 
Piggot looked uncomfortable.  “Not the details, no.”
 
“Details are good,” said Danny.  “We like details.  As many as possible.”
 
Panacea took a deep breath. “Okay, this is how it’s supposed to go. If you two
are outed as who you are, and your sexual relationship is exposed, apparently
it will cause the PRT a huge backlash.  So I’m supposed to tweak your
appearance and genetic structure just enough so that you are no longer
technically related to one another.”
 
Danny looked at Taylor; Taylor looked back at him.  They both looked at
Panacea.
 
“Wait, so he won’t be my dad any more?” asked Taylor.  “I’m not sure if I like
that idea.”
 
“He will still be the man who fathered you, and brought you up,” Panacea told
her patiently, “but blood tests will never prove it.”
 
“We are already planting rumours and evidence to be collected if anyone looks,
that you were adopted,” said Director Piggot.  “Or that you were born from a
dalliance your mother had before Danny and she were married.”
 
They still looked dubious.
 
“Maybe you should tell them the rest,” suggested Panacea.  Her entire attitude
said, I’m not doing anything until this is dealt with.
 
“Panacea will also be giving Taylor a hormone treatment, to effectively age
your body slightly,” said the Director.  “This will bring your actual body
shape in line with the padding you are currently wearing, and make you
effectively eighteen, physically speaking.”  She paused.  “Your age has been
advanced a little, legally speaking.  You are now officially sixteen.”
 
“Will I feel different? Will I think differently?” asked Taylor worriedly.
 
Panacea shook her head. “I don’t work with the brain at all. It will have to
develop at its own speed.  And the body feels like it feels.  You won’t notice
anything different.  Except your, uh, improved measurements.”  
 
Taylor said nothing, but she looked down at herself speculatively.
 
Panacea smiled and turned to Danny.  “We’re not leaving you out,” she said. 
“The plan is to de-age you by about ten to fifteen years, to bring you to about
twenty-five equivalent, that being the age we’re suggesting Pathfinder to be. 
Your external appearance will not change, though any grey hairs will grow back
in black, and your baldness will begin to retreat.”  
 
She paused.  “And the Director has asked me to give you both a general tune-up;
tone the muscles, remove excess body fat, deal with any minor health problems.”
 
“So I’ll be eighteen and Dad – Pathfinder – will be twenty-five,” said Taylor. 
“And we’ll basically be two new people.  And all the public facts about us have
been changed to fit.”  She looked at the Director. “Why all this?  Why for us?”
 
“Because you two are possibly the most useful and versatile recruits we have
ever gotten,” said Piggot bluntly.  “I cannot emphasise this enough. We have
gone through all this so that what you do in your private time is no longer
legally or genetically wrong, in the hopes that you might consider continuing
to work with us and for us for the foreseeable future.”
 
“So ... once we’re no longer related ...” said Danny, “could Pathfinder and
Compass Rose ... marry?”
 
“And have children together, yes,” said Panacea.  “Happy, healthy children,
free of any genetic flaws.”
 
Danny cleared his throat. “I’ve had a vasectomy.”
 
Panacea smiled.  “Not the hardest thing in the world for me to reverse.”
 
Danny blinked.  “I gather not.”  He paused.  “Oh, one more thing.  You fixed my
eyes, in the hospital.  Could you do the same thing for Taylor?”
 
Panacea nodded.  “As easily as snapping your fingers. Easier, actually.  I
never got the hang of that.”
 
The Director looked at them over her desk.  “So, Danny, Taylor.  You now have
the full details.  Do you agree to go through with this?”
 
“I have one question,” said Danny.  He turned to Panacea. “What do you get out
of this?  I thought you didn’t do requests.”
 
Panacea smiled.  “I ... owe you ... just a little,” she said. “I’ll tell you
how and why, later. But for the most part ...”  She grinned.  “Having the PRT
owe you a really huge favour is a nice thing to have in the bank for a rainy
day.”
 
“Uh, I have a question, too,” said Taylor.  “How long will it take for my body
to grow in?”
 
“About a month,” said Panacea.  “Slow enough for it to look almost natural,
fast enough to be over and done with in a reasonable time frame. Just so you
know, those parts of your body which are undergoing increased development will
be somewhat sensitive during that time.  And you will feel increased, hm,
appetites during that time.”
 
“So I’ll be eating a lot?” asked Taylor.
 
Panacea smiled. “Yes, that too.”
 
Taylor’s eyes widened slightly.  She met Danny’s gaze. They shared the same
thought.  Oh, boy.  
 
“Anything else?” asked Panacea.
 
“Ah, one more thing. A request,” said Taylor.  She leaned in to Panacea and
whispered for a moment or two.  
 
Amy looked at her, one eyebrow raised.  “Really?”
 
Taylor nodded, pink rising in her cheeks.  “Really.”
 
Amy grinned. “Okay.  I can do that.”
 
Taylor nodded. “Thanks.”  The pink colour was higher.
 
Director Piggot frowned. “Is this something I need to know about ...?”
 
Taylor shook her head in definitive negation.  “No, this is a very, very
private and personal thing.  Nothing to do with being Compass Rose.”
 
Piggot gave her a speculative look, then nodded.  “Very well. Carry on.”
 
Panacea smiled. “Okay, who first?”
 
Taylor raised her hand.  “Me?”
 
Panacea looked at Danny, who shrugged.  “I can wait,” he said with a grin.
 
She reached out to take Taylor’s hands.  “Ready?” she asked.  
 
Taylor nodded, suddenly nervous.
 
Panacea breathed in deeply, then breathed out again.  Taylor felt ... she
wasn’t sure what.  Her eyes were suddenly blurry; the glasses putting
everything out of focus.  The rest of her body ... it was like warm water had
just washed through her, changing everything ever so slightly.  Or maybe it was
her imagination.
 
She reached up, removed her glasses.  Everything was crystal clear.
 
“”Wow,” she murmured. “This is awesome.”
 
“You can get fake ones to wear in public,” said the Director.  “Keeps you in
character as yourselves.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Such a small change ...”  She looked at Panacea.  “And
everything else went through okay?”
 
Panacea grinned. “Everything,” she confirmed.
 
Taylor nodded. “Well, I feel fine.  Dad, your turn.”
 
Danny stepped forward and allowed Panacea to take his hands.  With a perfectly
straight face, he said, “Please, be gentle with me.  It’s my first time.”
 
Panacea had to sit down and recover from an attack of the giggles before she
was able to continue. Taylor started laughing too, and even the Director could
not conceal a smile.  But Danny was also soon given the treatment.  He didn’t
even feel a thing.
 
***
 
“Well, if  there’s nothing else you need,” said Taylor, “we can be going now.”
 
Director Piggot nodded. “We’ll forward the next batch of missing persons to
your smart phone.”
 
Taylor smiled.  “Sure. I’ll be sure to let the local police know where they
are, if they’re in trouble.”
 
“Every little bit helps,” agreed the Director.
 
“Ready to go, kiddo?” asked Danny.
 
Taylor smiled and turned to him.  Then she paused.  “So ... we’re legal now, is
that it?”
 
Director Piggot nodded.
 
“Good,” said Taylor. “So I can do this.”  She put her arms around Danny’s neck
and kissed him very thoroughly indeed.  He responded in kind, his arms around
her body, his lips tightly pressed to hers. Purple-brown smoke billowed up to
hide them, and when it dissipated, they were gone.
 
Panacea cleared her throat to hide a laugh.  “I think we got to them just in
time,” she observed with a grin.
 
“So I see,” agreed the Director.  “And thank you once again for your
assistance.”  She paused. “So .. why did you agree so readily to help them
out?  What debt is this that you owe them?”
 
Amy cleared her throat again.  “Let us just say ... they opened my eyes to some
options.”
 
Director Piggot looked at her searchingly; she saw Amy’s eyes cut across to the
office door, where Glory Girl was leaning, chatting to the receptionist.
 
Vicky felt Piggot’s gaze on her, turned, and said “What?”
 
Director Piggot looked back to Amy, who blushed.
 
“.... nothing,” said the Director.
 
She watched the pair leave, then closed her office door firmly.  Thank goodness
Panacea fixed my kidneys, she said to herself as she opened the bottom drawer
of her desk.  Otherwise this might have killed me.
 
She took out the bottle of bonded whiskey, poured herself a strong shot, and
knocked it back.  It burned all the way down.
 
Panacea and Glory Girl. Christ all-fucking-mighty.
 
***
 
Taylor and Danny lay in bed, gasping for breath, covered in sweat.  It was
several hours later.
 
“When she said she toned us up –“ panted Danny.
 
“ – and brought you back to twenty-five –“ added Taylor.
 
“ – she wasn’t kidding,” they finished in unison.
 
“Oh god, I thought it was good before,” Taylor said.
 
They lay, enjoying the afterglow, as the sweat cooled on their bodies, gently
caressing and kissing one another.
 
“My breasts will be larger,” she said with a secret smile.  “And my butt will
be more than two slabs of muscle.”  She grinned.  “And talking about my butt
...”
 
“Yes?” he asked.
 
“She made it more elastic for me.  More sensitive, too.  So it’ll stretch more
but squeeze tighter.”
 
His eyes opened wide with interest.  “Really?”
 
She smiled. “Really.”  Rolling up on to all fours, she presented her buttocks
to him.
 
He got up behind her, gripped her hips.  Prodded his suddenly-returned erection
at her tight brown pucker.  She relaxed; it opened for him, and he slid inside.
There was no pain, no discomfort, just tight, slick wetness.  He slid deeper
and deeper into her tightest hole, all the way to the hilt.
 
They spoke in unison. “Oh.  My.  Holy. God.”
 
And then they really got down to business.
 
***
 
Vicky was at breakfast when Amy came trotting down the stairs.  She wore a T-
shirt and a pair of jeans, and a very cheerful expression. Sitting down next to
her sister, she dived into her breakfast like she had been starving for a week.
 
“Morning, Vicky,” she said happily.  “Ready for our da-“
 
Oh Christ, thought Victoria, she’s gonna call it a ‘date’ in front of everyone.
 
Amy giggled internally. Wouldn’t Vicky flip if I called it a ‘date’?
 
“-y out?” she finished saying.
 
Glory Girl smiled at her sister.  Crisis averted. “Sure, Ames,” she said.  “So
what have you got planned?”
 
Amy grinned.  “Everything,” she said, rather extravagantly.
 
Mark nodded, from the head of the table.  “Good. Enjoy yourselves, girls. 
We’ll call if we need an assist at anything.”
 
Amy smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad,” she said.  “I’m so looking forward to this.”
 
So am I, thought Victoria.  How about that?
 
***
 
Coil: Universe A  

“So what’s my role in all this again?” asked Miss Militia.  
 
“Basically, to let her know we’re serious,” said Taylor.
 
“Also, to provide backup in the unlikely circumstance that this goes pear-
shaped,” added Danny.
 
“In civilian clothes?” said Miss Militia.
 
Taylor smiled. “We’re going to talk to Tattletale, remember.  You could be
wearing a burqua and she’d know who you were.”
 
Miss Militia nodded. “In that case ... call me Hannah.”
 
Taylor smiled. “Thanks for helping us out with this.”
 
Hannah shrugged. “The Director has given your requests a priority rating.  And
to be asked to a meeting with Tattletale has certain connotations; we want this
to go smoothly.”
 
Taylor nodded, and frowned. “I wonder why she hasn’t called yet?”
 
***
 
Lisa struggled against her bonds and screamed.
 
“It will do you no good,” said Coil, stepping forward.  “You may as well save
your breath for when I am actually asking questions.”
 
Lisa gritted her teeth and struggled again.  She wasn’t a telepath;
she knew she wasn’t a telepath.  All the same, she tried very hard
indeed.  Compass Rose, for God’s sake, look for me. Please.
 
On the table before her lay a row of hypodermic syringes; the contents were
generally a variation on the straw-yellow of blood serum, but she knew what
each and every one of them would do to her.  And she was utterly terrified.
 
Coil, of course, knew this. This was why he had had these needles laid out for
her inspection.  For anyone else, he would have had to explain, in detail.  For
her, he merely needed to hint.  Her power filled everything else in.
 
“So,” he said.  “the questions.  You have recently encountered a pair of new
parahumans called Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  They invaded your base, with
enough force to capture you all, and yet left you alone and alive after the
fact.  And just two days ago, you contacted them, asking for a meeting.”  
 
He leaned close to her. “I am very curious about these two. Please tell me all
you know about Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  Most especially, any points of
leverage which I may find ... useful.”
 
Lisa spat in his face.
 
He wiped the spittle off, and then turned to the guards.  “We will hold the
syringes for now.  Untie her from the chair, strip her, and tie her across the
table.  Take turns on her.  Do not touch her mouth.”
 
Lisa screamed, uselessly.
 
***
 
Coil: Universe B 

The picture was small and grainy, so he could not get a good look at the faces,
but Lisa was definitely sitting down with two people who fitted the body types
of Pathfinder and Compass Rose, and one other, a dark-skinned woman.  He didn’t
know her.
 
This was the irritation at trying to get around Tattletale’s power; if he tried
to get a minion any closer, or used a larger pickup, she would get a hint, and
it would be all over.
 
But he knew she was meeting with them, and knowledge was a lever.
 
***
 
“I never wanted to be in the Undersiders,” said Lisa.
 
“What?” asked Taylor. She sucked at her milkshake. “Why don’t you leave, then?”
 
“One reason,” said Lisa. “Coil.”
 
Taylor’s eyes went unfocused as she tried to get a read on that name. 
Suddenly, she had it; crime lord, never did anything big himself, contracted
out to others.
 
“Tall, skinny guy, wears a black costume with a white snake on it?” she asked.
 
Tattletale looked at her with respect.  “Christ, that was fast.”
 
Taylor smiled slightly. “You do some pretty amazing things too.”
 
Lisa shrugged slightly. “Can you get a read on his location?”
 
Taylor grinned.  “To the metre.  He’s in some sort of base.  I’m getting the
impression of metal catwalks.”
 
“Well, he had me coerced into the Undersiders at gunpoint.  He knows what I can
do.  If I try to leave, he’ll have me killed.  And I’m terrified he’ll just
kidnap me one day and keep me prisoner to answer questions for him.”
 
Danny, sitting at the next table with Hannah, blinked.  “Christ. That
shit happens?”
 
Hannah put her hand on his. “More often than you would think, Danny.”
 
Danny blinked again, this time at her hand, resting on his.  Then he looked at
her face.
 
She smiled slightly at him.
 
“I –“ he said lamely.
 
“You love Taylor,” she said softly.  “But can you not love more than one?”
 
He didn’t answer. But nor did he withdraw his hand.

***
 
“Oh hey,” said Amy. “There’s Taylor and Danny.”
 
“Who?” asked Victoria. She was wearing a brightly-coloured sundress, and
holding hands with her sister, as agreed.
 
It was a nice feeling, to be honest.  To be out on a carefree day with the
person she loved the most – in a platonic sense, of course – and who loved her,
to have fun, to enjoy the sights.  To hold hands.
 
She knew at the end of the day that she would be giving Amy a kiss.  She
accepted this; it was a not too onerous price to be paid for a fun day out.
 
They had already gone through the merchant stalls; ice creams had been
purchased and consumed, and Vicky had bought Amy a necklace comprising of
coloured seashells of various types.  Amy had gotten for Vicky a pair of
earrings, each with a brass “G” dangling from it.  Each wore the other’s
present proudly.
 
Giving things to each other was fun.
 
***
 
Taylor looked up as she saw Amy waving.  Sitting up, she waved back.
 
“Have you met Amy and Vicky?” she asked.  “Panacea and Glory Girl?”
 
“Not officially,” said Lisa with a grin.  She turned to look at the pair just
arriving, and blinked.
 
Shit, these too? she asked herself.  Is it something in the water?  Good
thing I don’t have any relatives in Brockton Bay.
 
“Hey, how’s it going?” asked Amy as she came up.  Taylor stood, and they hugged
warmly.
 
“Really, really, really good,” grinned Taylor.  Lisa heard the tone, connected
the dots, and blushed scarlet.
 
I did not need to know about that.  I really didn’t.
 
***
 
The Dallon girls chatted for a little while longer, then said their goodbyes
and headed off, still hand in hand.
 
Taylor, looking after them, sighed.  “Poor Amy,” she said softly.  “She does
love her sister so much.  And Vicky doesn’t even know.”
 
Lisa grinned.  “Oh, I think she knows now,” she told Taylor.
 
Danny raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t look too upset.”
 
Lisa grinned wider. “She thinks she’s upset.  This is changing.”
 
Both of Taylor’s eyebrows went up.  “Oh.  Oh my.”
 
Lisa smirked.  “Oh, yes.”
 
***
 
Coil: Universe A  

Lisa’s voice had gone from screams of outrage to whimpers of pain, and she was
slumped over the table, sobbing, as the last guard tucked himself away and
zipped up.  Blood ran down her thighs from her violated vagina and rectum.
 
“Put her back in the chair,” ordered Coil.  “Now, let us see if the needles
will be of any use.”
 
***
 
Taylor’s phone rang. She snatched it up. “Tattletale?” she said.
 
“No, this is Grue,” she heard.  “You know, the darkness guy?”
 
“I know who you are,” said Taylor, his image filling her mind.  “Why are you
calling?  I’m waiting on a call from Tattletale.”
 
“She’s disappeared,” he said, his voice full of worry.  “And she left a note;
if she vanished, to call you.”
 
Taylor’s hand gripped Danny’s as her eyes unfocused.
 
“Oh Christ!” she blurted. “She’s being tortured!”
 
She stood up, dragging Danny with her.  She dropped the phone; it puffed into
smoke, reappeared in Danny’s free hand.  He dropped it on the desk.  She
grabbed Miss Militia’s arm with her other hand, drove the knowledge of a
location into Danny’s mind.  They appeared next to Grue, who was still holding
the phone to his ear.  Danny grabbed him.  They went again.
 
***
 
Coil held up a syringe, tapped it with his fingertip.  “You know what this will
do,” he murmured.  “Tell me, and all the pain will go away.”
 
Lisa sobbed, not even able to hold her head up.  Her vagina and anus hurt
terribly.  The guards had not been gentle.  “Compass Rose and Pathfinder ...”
 
He stepped closer. “Yes?”
 
In the corner of the room, purple-brown smoke billowed.  Almost instantly,
darkness washed out to fill the room.
 
“Are here,” grated Lisa, lurching forward to sink her teeth into his wrist.  He
screamed and dropped the syringe.
 
Miss Militia could not see. But she felt Taylor grab her hand. “Pistol,” said
Taylor.  There was a pistol in her hand.  Taylor guided her aim, squeezed her
hand.  Miss Militia squeezed the trigger.  Again.  And again.
 
Six muffled pops, six men went down, each shot in the centre of the face.
 
“I’ve got Coil!” snarled Grue.  He could see perfectly, of course.
 
Coil wrenched his wrist clear of Lisa’s teeth.  He considered drawing his
pistol and shooting her, but she would just lean out of the way.
 
And then a battering-ram smashed into his face.
 
Coil could not see, did not know what was happening.  His best guess was that
two or three men, all experts in martial arts, were using him as a practise
dummy.  But it was just Grue.  Trained in boxing, fighting mad.  
 
He got Coil up against the wall of the cell, even as Taylor got Lisa out of the
chair, and proceeded to coldly and scientifically beat him to death.
 
***
 
Coil: Universe B  

Coil shut that universe down.
 
What the fuck just happened? he asked himself.
 
He recalled sudden darkness.  Grue.
 
The muffled pops of shooting.  No-one can see through Grue’s darkness except
him.  He must have had a gun.
 
The hammer-blows that rained on him, beat him down, gave him no respite.  Grue
again.

How did he get into the cell?

Compass Rose and Pathfinder?
 
He was suddenly aware that he knew far too little of the situation.
 
And there, on the screen, Lisa sat, talking to them.
 
What is she telling them?
 
He had no idea.
 
He began to feel very worried indeed.
 
***
 
“Would you come with me, to speak to Director Piggot, about Coil?” asked
Taylor.
 
“What, like this, unmasked?” said Lisa.
 
“If you intend to leave the Undersiders anyway ...” said Danny encouragingly.
 
Lisa tilted her head. “You pose a valid point.  Let’s go.”
 
***
 
Coil watched them stand, clasp hands, and disappear in a billow of smoke.  But
there was something, just before they had vanished ...
 
He played it back.
 
Fuck, she knew he was there all the time.
 
***
 
“Why did you do that?” asked Taylor curiously.
 
“Do what?” asked Lisa innocently.
 
“Give the finger to midair, just before we went.”
 
Lisa grinned.  “Oh, no reason.”
 
They entered Director Piggot’s office.  The Director looked up.  “Your meeting
was – oh.”
 
“Director Piggot,” said Danny formally.  “This is Tattletale.”
 
“Otherwise known as Lisa Wilbourn,” offered Lisa.
 
“Interesting,” said the Director urbanely.  “The name we had for you was Sarah
Livsey.”
 
Tattletale looked at Taylor.  “Compass Rose indeed, huh?” Taylor grinned at
her.
 
Director Piggot frowned, covering papers up.  “Did you have to bring her here?”
she asked.  “She’s a highly dangerous Thinker.”
 
“She’s offering us Coil on a plate,” said Miss Militia.  “Or rather, the names
of his men.”
 
“Which we can use to pull them out and dump them in cells,” said Taylor.  “And
Coil himself, too, of course.”
 
“So what do we need her for?” asked the Director.
 
“I know stuff you don’t,” said Lisa with her fox-like grin.
 
“Such as ...?”
 
Lisa shook her head. “Play ball.  Give me something to go for.  I don’t want to
be an ex-Undersider.  I want something to move into.”
 
Piggot sighed.  “Fine.  A provisional membership in the Wards.  Good enough?”
 
Lisa nodded.  “Good enough.  His real name is Thomas Calvert.  And he’s got men
all the way through the PRT.”
 
The Director’s eyes went very wide indeed.  “You had better
be fucking kidding.  I’ve known Calvert for years.”
 
Lisa shook her head. “Total disclosure.  That’s his name.”
 
Director Piggot looked at Taylor.  She blinked twice, and said, “It’s him. 
It’s Coil.”
 
“Shit,” snarled the Director.  “All the stuff he knows ... who and where are
his men in the PRT?”
 
“I don’t know their names,” said Tattletale, “but I’ll know ‘em when I see
‘em.”
 
“And I’ll know where they are and what they’re doing,” put in Taylor.
 
Piggot smiled coldly. “Well then,” she said.  “Let’s see how good you two are.”
 
She pulled up the personnel files for the local PRT and turned the screen
toward them.
 
And thus the war began.
***** The Silent War *****
Chapter Summary
     Coil and the PRT fight a silent war for supremacy. Coil has surprise;
     the PRT has Compass Rose, Pathfinder, and Tattletale. Vicky and Amy
     conclude their date.
It was a very quiet war.

***

Universe 1:
 
Amy and Victoria, still walking along the Boardwalk, still hand in hand, were
utterly unaware of it.
 
In fact, most people people in Brockton Bay were unaware of it.
 
It took place in two locations, separated by several miles; each was equally
secure, in its own way. But that security meant nothing against infiltrators
from within.
 
And there were casualties.
 
Many, many casualties.
 
***
 
Universe 2:
 
Thomas Calvert left his base, got into his unassuming car, started the drive
home.  He decided that a nice quiet restful night at home would do him the
world of good.  And if the attack on the PRT building went bad, he would try
something else tomorrow.
 
***
 
Universe 1:
 
It started slowly.
 
Director Piggot turned the screen of her desk computer toward Lisa and Taylor. 
Taylor took a firm grip of her father’s hand.
 
Taylor took in the screen at a glance; each picture expanded into a mental
image of a man or woman in PRT uniform, at their workstation or in casual
clothes at home.  Or, in one case, in an underground location.  She knew that
location.
 
“That one’s one, isn’t he?” she asked, pointing.
 
Lisa nodded.  “And this one, this one, this one, this one and this one.”  She
grabbed the mouse, highlighted the appropriate ones, including Taylor’s choice.
 
Director Piggot blinked. “How did you know that one, Compass Rose?” she asked.
 
Taylor shrugged. “He’s in Coil’s base.”
 
“You know where that is, for certain?” asked Piggot sharply.
 
Taylor nodded. “Sure.  I know where Coil is, and it’s an underground
location.”  She moved to a wall map.  “Here.”  Her nail made a tiny indentation
on the paper.
 
Piggot stared at the location.  “Damn.  Right.”  She took a deep breath. 
“Okay, let’s keep going.”
 
She showed them screen after screen, and Lisa kept picking them, and Taylor
kept locating them.
 
And then Taylor raised her head.  “That one there just got a phone call,” she
said.
 
Director Piggot frowned. “And?” she asked.
 
“And Coil just made a phone call,” Taylor clarified.  “Sorry.” She paused
again.  “And now this guy’s working on his computer.  Typing something in.”
 
“Can you tell what?” asked Miss Militia.
 
Taylor shook her head. “Sorry, I can only just about tell it’s a computer.”
 
“I don’t think we should let him –“ began Miss Militia ... and then the room
went dark, as did the computer screen.
 
“Shit!” snapped Director Piggot.
 
There was a knocking on the door.  “Director?” shouted a voice. “Are you all
right in there?”
 
Lisa put her hand on Miss Militia’s shoulder.  “Hostile,” she murmured.
 
The door opened; Miss Militia fired an assault rifle from the shoulder.  The
man, a PRT officer from the uniform, fell to the ground. His gun fell beside
him.
 
“What the hell? What’s going on?” came shouts from the outer office.
 
“We have to go, now!” snapped Lisa.
 
“Dad!” said Taylor, and grabbed Miss Militia’s shoulder.  Lisa grabbed her
arm.  Danny grabbed the Director.  Taylor gave him a location.  He went there.
 
Two seconds after the cloud of purple-brown smoke dissipated, two grenades
bounced in through the open door, and made rather a mess of the room.
 
***
 
Universe 2:
 
Thomas Calvert stopped at the lights and waited for them to change.
 
In Director Piggot’s office, Taylor and Lisa had finished identifying and
locating the moles in the Brockton Bay PRT.
 
***
 
Universe 1:
 
They were in the armoury. It was dark.  Miss Militia’s assault rifle grew a
tactical light. She splashed it around the room. “What are we looking for?”
 
“Grenades,” said Taylor grimly.  She saw them, dragged Danny toward them.  She
raised her head.  “Some of them are shooting your loyal soldiers.  They know
who they are, the loyal guys don’t.”  She looked at the grenades.  “Which are
lethal, which just knockout?”
 
Director Piggot pointed. “Flash-bang, frag, smoke, tear gas.”
 
Danny nodded.  “Good enough.”
 
Taylor grabbed a flash-bang, pulled the pin, handed it to her father.  Gripped
his hand.  The grenade disappeared in a puff of smoke.  She grabbed a frag
grenade, pulled the pin, handed it to him, held his hand.  It went.
 
Again, and again, and again, they repeated the process.  And Miss Militia and
Director Piggot watched, and wondered.  And Lisa watched, and knew.
 
***
 
Universe 2:
 
Director Piggot made phone calls.  And at the end of each call, a PRT officer
looked blankly at the phone, then stood up and moved to a colleague. Quiet
words were exchanged.  They moved in on another colleague.  Plastic cuffs were
utilised.  It was all very quiet, very clean.  No-one managed to raise the
alarm.
 
***
 
Universe 1:
 
At first, Coil’s men, throughout the PRT tower, had it all their way.  He
started the ball rolling with a single phone call.  “Decapitate.”
 
The man who received the call opened a window on his workstation, typed in an
access code he certainly should not have been using, and then typed in a
command that should not have worked.  Power went out in certain parts of the
building, including Director Piggot’s office, and the electronic locks for the
armoury, and the Wards part of the tower.
 
All around the PRT tower, men and women received that same word on their pagers
or phone. Carefully calculated acts of sabotage were followed by turning on
their fellow officers.
 
One man was supposed to enter Director Piggot’s office and kill everyone there;
Lisa and Miss Militia foiled that aspect of the plan.  His backup tried to
carry out the plan with grenades; fortunately, that didn’t work either.
 
The loyal PRT troops, where they were not massacred immediately, found their
radios jammed, their friends turning on them, and their options vanishing.
 
And then grenades started going off.  Flash-bangs where there was the chance of
friendly casualties, frag grenades where the enemy was behind a barricade.  Men
started falling, others died.  The loyal PRT troops rallied, fought back.  Took
back their tower.  And all the while, they were supported by a loyal, if
invisible, ally that placed loaded weapons at their feet and live grenades at
their enemies’.
 
***
 
Universe 2:
 
Thomas Calvert still didn’t know anything was amiss.  He certainly didn’t know
that teams of PRT men were being teleported into his base, and his own
mercenaries were being disarmed and taken into custody.
 
He turned into his street.
 
***
 
Universe 1:
 
Lisa sat at the workstation of the original traitor.  She typed away rapidly,
inputting commands faster than Taylor could follow.  Not that she was following
what Lisa was doing. She had her hand in Danny’s, and she was watching Coil.
 
Director Piggot looked dubiously at where Lisa worked at the computer.  “Not
sure I like the idea of her in our system,” she muttered.
 
“She saved all our lives,” Miss Militia countered.
 
“She saved her life,” retorted Piggot.
 
“She’s the best chance we’ve got of fixing whatever they did to the system.”
 
At that moment, the screen cleared, and Lisa pushed back from the workstation. 
“That should do it.”
 
Miss Militia raised her radio.  “All surviving units, this is Miss Militia. 
Report by section.”
 
The radio crackled, and voices started reporting in.  They sounded weary,
scared, confused, shocked.  But they reported.
 
When the last voice fell silent, Miss Militia and Director Piggot shared a
glance.  “That’s bad,” said Miss Militia.  “That’s really bad.”
 
Piggot nodded.  “It is.  Coil’s just hit us really hard.  Now we hit him back.”
 
Taylor paused.  “Coil and his men seem to be ready for a teleporter attack.  He
has them bunched up, aiming their guns in all directions.”
 
Piggot frowned.  “I really want to interrogate Calvert. Find out how long this
has been going on, how deep his tentacles go.”
 
“I can help with some of that,” said Lisa.  “Deep. Very deep.”
 
Taylor had Danny drop a flash-bang in the middle of the men clustered around
Coil; one of them kicked it, and it went over the edge of the catwalk, and
detonated somewhere below.
 
“They’re prepared for that, too,” she said.
 
Danny said, “Smoke grenades to use as cover.”
 
“Could work,” said Taylor.
 
***
 
Universe 2:
 
Thomas Calvert pulled into his driveway and parked his car.
 
He got out, unlocked his front door, and walked inside.
 
From there, he performed a normal routine, almost as if he expected to be under
surveillance.
 
Taylor kept watching him. Compass Rose and Pathfinder teleported groups of PRT
men around Coil’s base, picking Coil’s minions off before they could raise the
alarm.
 
***
 
Universe 1:
 
“Move toward the exit,” said Coil.  “Full teleport protocol.”
 
The men moved in unison, scanning the surroundings, guns up, ready.  They’d
trained for scenarios like this.
 
It didn’t mean that they’d win, of course, but they had a better chance than
someone who wasn’t prepared.
 
When the smoke grenades clattered to the catwalk on either side of them, they
fired into the smoke. They weren’t prepared for tear gas grenades to fall from
the air above them, already trailing noxious fumes.
 
Within moments, they were all helpless.  PRT men teleported into place around
them, wearing gas masks.  Coil was taken into custody along with his men.
 
A puff of purple-brown smoke later, and Coil stood before Director Piggot.  She
stepped forward, pulled at his mask.  It was of a piece with his costume; it
didn’t come off.
 
And then suddenly, in a puff of smoke, the entire costume was gone; Pathfinder
held it, limp, in his hands. Thomas Calvert, in his underwear, stood before
Piggot.
 
Piggot looked up at Calvert.  “I trusted you,” she hissed.  She nodded to the
guards. “Take him away.  This one goes to the Birdcage.  He knows too much
about the PRT.”
 
***
 
Universe 2:
 
Coil swore to himself, and shut down that universe.  His cover blown, his base
compromised.  I’m really going to have to do sometihng about Compass Rose and
Pathfinder.  And Lisa.
 
He picked up his phone, and called his base.
 
No-one answered.
 
He frowned.  Someone should be on duty.
 
He called again.
 
He was just starting to realise that something was wrong when the PRT kicked in
his front door.
 
***
 
It really was a very quiet war.
 
***
 
Director Piggot’s face bore an expression akin to that of the cat which, having
ingested a whole aviary full of canaries, has discovered a lake of cream all
for itself.
 
She positively beamed at Lisa, Taylor and Danny.  Miss Miltia stood off to the
side, at parade rest.
 
“Coil is in custody,” she said.  “He will be interrogated, thoroughly, and then
sent to the Birdcage.  He knows too much about the PRT to be allowed to stay
loose and alive.”
 
She allowed an expression of distaste to cross her face.  “He was my friend,”
she said.  “I trusted him.”
 
Danny nodded sympathetically.  “Believe me, we know what it’s like to find out
that our friends are less than friendly.”  He took Taylor in his arms; she
hugged him back.
 
Director Piggot nodded. “I see your point.”  Her face assumed the previous
beatific expression. “Thanks to you three, we have managed to take an entire
criminal organisation, and its very elusive boss, out of circulation with
hardly anyone the wiser.”
 
Lisa looked at her. “And he won’t be let free?”
 
Piggot shook her head. “No chance.”
 
Lisa nodded sharply. “Good.”
 
Taylor let go of Danny and hugged her sympathetically.  “I might not have been
under sentence of death, but I sort of know ...” she began.
 
“I know you do,” agreed Lisa.  “And what you’ve been through ... I’m not
surprised you turned to your father for comfort.  I’m really not.”
 
Taylor smiled, drawing Danny’s arms about her.  “I could not live without him,”
she said softly.  “He’s kept me alive twice now.”
 
Lisa looked Danny in the face.  “Well, I’m glad you did,” she said.  “I don’t
know where I could have turned.”
 
“Well,” said Director Piggot, “you still have the offer for a provisional place
in the Wards.”
 
Lisa smiled.  “You know,” she said.  “I think I’ll take it.”
 
Taylor held up her hand; Lisa gave her a high-five.
 
“Louie,” said Danny, affecting a rougher accent, “I think this is the beginning
of a beautiful friendship.”
 
Taylor looked at him, puzzled.  Lisa smirked.  Director Piggot burst out
laughing.
 
 
[Author's Note: This ends the 'introduction' of Pathfinder and Compass Rose to
the Protectorate.  Further stories will be set later on, once they've had a
chance to settle in, and Taylor's mods have taken.]

[And just an epilogue ...]

***
 
Amy giggled as the credits rolled.
 
“That was a very silly movie,” she said.
 
“It was,” agreed Victoria. “But I enjoyed it.”
 
Amy nodded.  “So did I.”  She took Vicky’s and and squeezed it.  “Thanks for
coming out today with me.  You really made my day.  My week.”
 
Vicky squeezed back. “I had a really good time too,” she admitted.  “The
Boardwalk was a lot of fun. And dinner was a blast. Seriously, where did you
learn all those dirty jokes?  I laughed so hard thought I was going to wet
myself.”
 
Amy giggled again. “You should listen in on doctors when they think they’re
alone,” she confided.  “They have the roughest sense of humour.”
 
They walked out of the cinema, chatting happily together.  Hand in hand; it was
natural to Victoria by now.  Her sister’s hand in hers, together, warm, caring.
 
She had never felt so close to Amy in a very long time.
 
She paused near a shaded corner, out of the main street, and drew Amy into
it.  
 
“I had a really, really, really nice time tonight, Ames,” she said softly. 
“And you were good, and never made even one pass at me.”
 
Amy smiled up at her. “To be honest, Vicky,” she said, “I was having so much
fun I didn’t even think about it.”
 
Vicky nodded.  “And nor did I.  Until just now.  So yes, this has been a date. 
And I enjoyed it very much.”
 
Amy looked up at her.  "So ...?"

Vicky smiled.  "So you get your kiss."

She scooped Amy into her arms and they lifted into the air; higher and higher
they flew, until all of Brockton Bay was spread out beneath them.  Vicky flew
northwest, landing on the lookout on top of Captain's Hill.  She let Amy down
to her feet, then stood there, looking at her.

"I'm here" she said softly.  "We're in the most romantic spot in Brockton Bay. 
We're alone."  She smiled.  "You can kiss me just as hard as you want.  You've
earned it."

Amy leaned close to Vicky, who put an arm around her.  Brockton Bay sparkled
beneath them.  Moonlight made a silvery path to the horizon.  Vicky had brought
her here for the kiss.  She felt a great surge of love and affection for her
sister.

She put her arms around Vicky's neck and drew her face down to hers.  Closing
her eyes, she pressed her lips to Vicky's.  

***

Vicky let her sister draw her down into the kiss.  This meant so much to Amy;
she was willing to give her sister a great deal, to make her happy.  A kiss? 
Not so much in the grand scheme of things.  Even a little tongue?  Sure, she
could pretend Amy was Dean, just for this kiss.

Their lips met.

***

Amy felt Vicky's lips part and her tongue willingly enter Amy's mouth, even as
Amy's tongue slid into Vicky's.  The feeling was sensual, sexual, amazingly
arousing.  She moaned and moved her body against Victoria's.  Her arms pulled
Victoria harder into the kiss, more demanding.

***

Victoria felt Amy's tongue in her mouth, and was amazed by the sensual,
arousing thrill that shot through her.  Amy moaned; she felt her sister's body
moving against her, breasts pressing against one another.  Strange sensations
were flashing through her body, warmth and light-headedness.  She pressed her
thigh between Amy's legs, rubbing against her groin.

***

Amy felt Vicky's leg rubbing against her, and pressed herself hard on to it. 
She kissed Vicky harder.  Vicky responded.

***

By the time they separated from the kiss, they were both breathing hard.
 
"Oh my god," whispered Amy.

"Oh my god is right," panted Victoria.

"I have no idea what's happening," said Amy, but I think I like it."

"Oh, I know what's happening," Vicky assured her.  "And I had no idea that you
could kiss that good."

"So ... you're attracted to me then?" asked Amy.

"I ... guess," said Victoria.  "And I have no idea how to handle that."  She
shrugged.  "I mean, I guess, we could just jump into bed and get it over with."

Amy was incredibly temped, but shook her head.  "No," she said softly.

Vicky stared at her.  "No?" she asked.

"No," reiterated Amy.  "We'll take this one step at a time.  One date at a
time.  Otherwise, it could get really, really weird between us.  So no sex. 
Not to start with.  Let's just get used to the idea first, okay?"

"Okay," said Vicky meekly.  Amy hugged her.

They kissed again.  It was just as good as the first time.

For the longest time, they stood, arms tightly about each other, looking out
over the sleeping city.

"So ... another date next Saturday?" asked Vicky at last.  "Or is that too
soon?"

Amy smiled and snuggled into her sister's embrace.  "No," she said.  "It's not
too soon."
***** Integrations *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny and Taylor discuss potential sexual partners; Taylor settles in
     with the Wards. Amy's relationship with Vicky proceeds apace.
Taylor lay back on the bed with a pillow under her hips, and her ass cocked
upward. Her legs were raised and spread wide, her ankles on Danny’s shoulders.
Atop her, Danny slid his penis in and out between her buttocks, thrusting deep
and hard with every stroke.  She gasped encouragement to him, rubbing her
clitoris and labia as he did so.
 
She was wearing a spare costume she had requested from the PRT; this one, just
a thin covering of cloth that stretched tightly over her newly-improved figure,
had cutouts in certain strategic places.  One was over her enlarged breasts,
currently tipped with very swollen nipples.  Another was over her vagina and
ass, uncovering them for Danny’s delectation and ravishment.
 
Danny wore his Pathfinder helmet, without the mouthpiece, and the long coat and
shirt. He wore nothing from the waist down, except his boots.
 
He slid his long erection in and out of her, to her gasping delight and
steadily mounting arousal, as his lips and tongue and teeth found her swollen
breasts and prominent nipples, and excited them beyond all measure.
 
He experienced the pleasure that she got from this, and from his penetration of
her tightest orifice, and she felt the arousal that he felt from her tightness
around his thrusting penis.  The forbidden delight of making love in costume
also added to their ever-increasing arousal.
 
He pumped into her harder and harder, his hips thrusting energetically, until
she began to climax, crying his name, clenching herself around him.  Her orgasm
triggered his own, and he arched his back, driving himself hard into her, which
drew another devastating climax from her.  His long cock spurted, blasting his
seed into her, filling her bowels with his hot white semen, as he kept
thrusting, kept pumping, kept coming.
 
Under him, she came again and again, their mutual orgasm lifting them to a
level of pleasure that they had never known before they gained their powers.
 
Finally, however, they slumped on to the bed together; he reluctantly pulled
his softening penis from between her now very shapely buttocks, and she lowered
her legs to the bed.  Reaching down, she pulled the pillow from under her hips,
rolled over, and put her arms around her father.
 
She kissed him tenderly, lovingly.
 
He teleported their costume pieces from them, and they snuggled naked on the
bed, bodies loosely entwined, touching each other with gentle caresses.
 
“That was wonderful,” she murmured.  “You really like the costume with the
cutouts, huh?”
 
He grinned and kissed her.  “Just a little.”  To tell the truth, Taylor’s new
body had the ability to excite him even more than she had before.  She was
firm, and rounded, and curved in all the right places.
 
During the growing phase, there had been nights – and days – where they had not
done much more than make love.  She had been demanding, forever horny, needful
of his attentions.  More than once, she had made him excuse himself from a
meeting so that he could take her to a private location and drive her to orgasm
once again.
 
Not that he had complained – god no!  He had enthusiastically participated. 
Repeatedly, and with variations.  But in a way, he was glad that it was over,
and they were back to their usual level of wild passionate love-making.  On the
upside, her newly developed body made it even better for the both of them.
 
She snuggled into him, loving and warm.  He held her close, protectively.
 
“So,” he murmured.  “How are things with the Wards?”
 
She giggled.  “It was a little awkward with Aegis and Gallant for a bit there,”
she admitted.  “But we talked it out.”
 
“Okay, Aegis I can understand,” he said.  “But why Gallant?”
 
***
 
Taylor entered the Wards’ common area, already unstrapping and pulling off her
helmet.  Aegis was just heading for the door.  She nodded and smiled at him. He
nodded back, a slightly strained look on his face.
 
“Carlos,” she said, stopping.  “Can we talk?”
 
He hesitated, but his natural honesty won out.
 
“Sure,” he said.  “What about?”
 
Taylor drew him to one side.  “I know you’re never going to say anything,” she
said quietly, “and I know you vouched for me being in the Wards, but there’s
still a problem between you and me, isn’t there?”
 
He hesitated, and then hung his head.  “I’m sorry, Taylor,” he said.  “I can’t
... stop thinking about it.  About the fact that you and your father ...”  He
trailed off, pain on his face.
 
“Hey,” she said softly, drawing him into a hug.  He stiffened at first, then
accepted it.  “This is me.  This is Taylor.  I’m not some monster. Yes, I have
a strong sexual relationship with Pathfinder.  But he’s not my biological
father.”
 
Aegis frowned at her.  “But –“
 
She grinned at him.  “Director Piggot called in Panacea.  She tweaked our
genes.  Even if he got me pregnant tomorrow – which he won’t, but even if – the
child would be perfectly healthy, the product of two totally unrelated people.”
 
Aegis blinked.  “She can do that?”
 
Taylor giggled.  “Took me by surprise too. But she can, and she did.  And now,
even if people put two and two together, they will never be able to prove it.” 
She paused.  “So, even if I call him Dad from time to time, we are identical to
a twenty-five year old man, with his eighteen year old girlfriend, indulging in
a harmless incest fantasy.”
 
Aegis looked taken aback.  “She did all that for you?”
 
Taylor nodded.  “Oh yeah.  Apparently she likes having the PRT owe her big-
time.”
 
He whistled softly.  “And how.” He paused.  “So you and Pathfinder are no
longer related in any way – technically speaking, that is.”
 
She shook her head.  “Nope. No more than you and I are.”
 
He shook his head in turn.  “And you were willing for this to be done to you?”
 
She nodded earnestly.  “If it meant that I could be with him, yes.”
 
“Damn,” he said.  “I’m gonna have to think about this.”  He gave her an
apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about how I’ve acted toward you.  I’ll try
to do better in future.”
 
She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “It’s fine,” she
promised.  “And thanks for listening.”
 
She strolled off; he watched her go, admiring her rear view just a bit.
 
Compass Rose and Pathfinder have done so much since they joined the
Protectorate, he told himself.  This was my last sticking point, and now it’s
gone.  She’s just another girl; he’s just another man.  Who they used to be is
not important.

Feeling somewhat lighter of spirit, he exited the Wards area.
 
***
 
“Hey,” said Gallant to Taylor.
 
“Oh, hey, Dean,” she greeted him.  “How are you?”
 
"Um, fine," he said.  
 
She looked closely at him.  "Dean ... Is something the matter?"
 
He drew a deep breath, and gave her an agonised look.  "Can we talk?  Please?"
 
She raised an eyebrow.  "Sure. What's this about?"
 
He guided her off to the side; she frowned, starting to suspect what he wanted
to talk about.  Are we never going to get past this? she thought despairingly.
 
When he spoke, her fears were realised.  "It's about you and Pathfinder."
 
Her frown deepened.  "Seriously?  Has Aegis been talking to you? Director
Piggot assured us that it was going to be kept totally secret.". I thought
better of Carlos, she thought.
 
He shook his head.  "No, he didn't tell me.  I told Armsmaster."
 
Now she was totally confused.  "... what?"
 
He took a deep breath.  "I read emotions.  You know that.  When we first met
you, I ... read emotions coming off you and your dad.  Emotions that a teenage
girl and her father really should not be having for each other."
 
She shot him a sharp glance.  His tone did not seem to be accusing;  he
appeared to be more embarrassed than angry.  "So you're the reason they found
out," she said, her voice flat.
 
His eyes were troubled.  "I had to," he said, his voice pleading. "Hurting you
or your father was the last thing I wanted to do.  But as Compass Rose and
Pathfinder, you're going to be high profile, and your ... relationship would be
far more likely to be exposed, by people who might try to blackmail you, or
just hurt the PRT and the Protectorate with the information."
 
"So you told Armsmaster.  Without telling us.". Her voice was still flat.
 
He could read her emotions, tell that she wasn't as angry as she was making
out. But she still wasn't overly pleased with him.
 
"Look, I'm not trying to justify myself," he said.  “I know that I went behind
your backs, and I was a dick for doing it that way.  I just wanted ... to let
you know who it was who did this to you, and why.  Make sure you know I wasn’t
being malicious about it.”
 
Taylor pressed her lips together.  “Yes,” she said, “you were a dick.  But it
turned out all right in the end, so … I guess.  You get a free pass this time.”
 
He read off her emotion of amused exasperation, and breathed an internal sigh
of relief.  “Thanks,” he said.  “I was really feeling bad about it.”
 
“You should,” she said seriously.  “It could have turned out a lot worse.  But
it’s all been fixed, and Dad and I are doing better than ever.”  She
smiled. “Really better than ever.”
 
It was his turn to raise his eyebrows.  “Based on what I can feel rolling off
you now, I am not going to ask any questions. Hands off this subject.”  He
closed his eyes for just a moment, then opened them.  “Okay, just one more.”  A
long pause.  “Your father and you?  Really?”
 
She shook her head.  “He’s not my biological father.  Let’s just say I was
adopted at a really young age.  We’re not actually related in any way.”
 
One eyebrow stayed up.  “You do know I can read emotions.  It’s not perfect,
but it’s a good lie detector.”
 
She smiled at him.  “Ask Aegis.  Ask Armsmaster.  Ask Director Piggot, if you
dare.  They’ll tell you the same thing.”
 
And in that statement, he read absolute belief in what she had just said.
 
Right, he thought.  A subject better left alone.
 
“Well,” he said, “I guess that’s pretty well all said and done.  Sorry I caused
you problems.”
 
She shook her head.  “Not a problem, really,” she said.  She paused.  “Thanks
for letting me know, actually.  Dad and I couldn’t figure out how we’d
slipped.”
 
He shrugged slightly, went to move off.
 
“Dean,” she said.
 
He stopped, and looked at her questioningly. “I’m no emotion reader, but you’ve
got the looks of someone with something bothering them, and it’s not just me
and Dad.  What’s up?”
 
He shook his head.  “It’s nothing, really.  It’s just that I think Vicky’s
gonna split up with me again.”
 
“Really?” she asked.
 
He nodded unhappily.  “Yeah.  She hasn’t gone out with me on a Saturday night
for a month now, and the other dates she’s had with me, it’s like she wasn’t
really there.  Just passing the time with me because it was expected.”
 
“So, did you ask her about this?” Taylor pressed.
 
He shrugged.  “She said something about spending more time with her sister.” 
He looked at Taylor.  “I mean, I like Amy and all that, but I do want to go out
and spend time with Vicky.  Do you think she might be using Amy as an excuse to
stop seeing me?”
 
Almost automatically, Taylor focused on the names, searching for the people. 
She did this several times a day now, checking on the people she valued the
most.
 
***
 
Amy Dallon sat on her bed; she looked up as Victoria Dallon walked past.  “Oh,
Vicky,” she said.  “Can you come in here a moment, and close the door?”
 
Vicky smiled and stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her.  “Yes,
Amy?” she said.  Amy stood up, took two steps, and they went into each others’
arms.
 
The first kiss was light, gentle, testing the waters. And then Amy’s lips
pressed hard on Vicky’s, her lips parted, and  their tongues touched.  The kiss
lasted an eternity; it lasted no time at all.
 
Amy slid her hand up under Vicky’s top, undid her bra; it snapped open,
releasing Vicky’s breasts.  Vicky did the same with Amy’s bra, then slowly
peeled her sister’s t-shirt and bra off over her head, leaving her topless. 
Amy unbuttoned Vicky’s blouse, then pushed it back off her arms, before
removing her bra in a similar fashion.
 
Amy was the first to lower her mouth to her sister’s nipples; Vicky sat and
then lay on the bed, moaning softly as Amy’s talented tongue and lips drove her
to a fine heat of arousal.
 
And then it was Amy’s turn; Vicky ravished her breasts with her teeth and lips,
leaving Amy panting and whispering her name softly between gasps.
 
***
 
Taylor suppressed a smirk.  “You might want to call her up for a date tonight,”
she said.
 
He frowned.  “What?  It’s Wednesday.  We don’t go out on a Wednesday. It’s a
school night.”
 
She chuckled; he could not read anything from her emotions except a vast
amusement.  “You might be pleasantly surprised.”   She paused.  “You might want
to call her soon, though.”
 
He gave her a long, considering look, then pulled out his cell phone.
 
***
 
They both heard Carol Dallon’s footsteps coming upstairs; by the time she
paused at Amy’s door and knocked, the girls both had their tops on, although
their bras were out of sight under the bed.
 
“Come in,” said Amy cheerfully; she and Vicky were sitting side by side on the
bed, with an old scrapbook on their laps, the blonde and frizzy brown heads
close together.
 
“Ah, there you are, Victoria,” said Carol.  She spared barely a glance for
Amy.  
 
“Yes, Mom?” asked Vicky innocently.
 
“We were going out on patrol for the evening. Will you be joining us?”  From
the tone of voice, it was obvious that Carol considered the question a mere
formality.
 
At that moment, Vicky’s mobile rang.
 
“’Scuse me,” she said.  “I’ll just get this.”
 
Hitting the answer button, she said, “Uh, hello?”
 
“Hi, Vicky, it’s Dean.”
 
“Oh, hi, Dean,” she said.  “What’s up?”
 
“I, uh, was just wondering if we could go out for a bite tonight.  If that’s
okay with you.”
 
She smiled.  Amy might not be ready for sex with her yet, but Dean certainly
was.
 
“Thanks, Dean, I’d totally forgotten.  I’ll be over at seven?”
 
There was a pause.  “Uh, seven it is,” said Dean.  “See you then.”
 
Vicky hung up the call, and looked at her mother with the best approximation of
an apologetic smile that she could muster. “Sorry, Mom.  Dean already made a
date with me.  He was just calling to remind me.  Isn’t he a sweetie?”
 
“Yes,” grated Carol Dallon.  “A real honey.”  She took a deep breath.  “I’ll
let your father know.  And Victoria …”
 
“Yes, mom?”
 
“Do put a brassiere on before you go outside.  We try to maintain standards in
this household, after all.”
 
Vicky blushed deeply.  “Yes, mom.”
 
Carol looked unfavourably at Amy, whose t-shirt showed her still-erect nipples
even more than Vicky’s blouse did.  “And you could do to follow that example as
well.”
 
Turning, she swept from the room, without even waiting for an answer from Amy. 
The door closed behind her.
 
“Whew,” giggled Amy, closing the scrapbook and putting it to one side.  “That
was close.”
 
Vicky grinned, and pulled Amy’s shirt up again.  “Now, where were we?”
 
“Right about there, I think,” said Amy, and lay back again.  “So, a date with
Dean, huh?” she said as Vicky’s mouth closed her her nipple.
 
Vicky raised her head long enough to say, “Yeah. You still won’t have sex, and
you keep getting me all excited, so I have to do something to get rid of my
tension.”
 
“We will, Vicky,” said Amy softly,  then gasped as her sister nipped down hard
on her nipple. “Oh god, do that again.  We will.  I promise.  And it will be
special.”
 
She unbuttoned her sister’s blouse and played with her dangling breasts as
Vicky’s warm, wet mouth made her nipples sing with pleasure.
 
Soon, she thought.  Soon.
 
***
 
Dean hung up from the call and looked quizzically at Taylor.  “You were right. 
How did you know?”
 
Taylor grinned.  “Just a wild guess.”
 
Dean raised an eyebrow.  “This isn’t some power of yours that you haven’t
shared, is it?”
 
Taylor shook her head.  “Just making sense of what I see, is all.”
 
Her emotions betrayed no deception, just that vast amusement.  He grinned and
shook his head.  “Okay, fine.  And I want to say sorry again for messing you
and your dad around.”  He paused.  “Step dad. Foster dad.  Whatever.”
 
She nodded.  “Basically, yeah.  And thanks, but it’s all good.”  She gave him a
kiss on the cheek.  “Don’t be late, now.”
 
He watched her moving off, rubbing his cheek absently. Damn, he thought.  Real
father or not, Danny’s one lucky guy.
 
***
 
“Ah, so it was Gallant,” said Danny, gently kissing Taylor on the lips.  “I had
wondered.”
 
She nodded, slowly running her foot up and down his calf muscle.  “He says he’s
sorry, and I believe him.  I don’t know if he believes me about the ‘not being
related’ bit or not, but he’s accepting it for the time being.”
 
He kissed her again; she kissed him back.  “So how are things going with the
rest of them?”
 
She reached down and fondled him; he was starting to grow hard again.
 
“Well, they like me well enough …”
 
***
 
Chris looked up from the table and waved. “Hey, Taylor, good to see you!”
 
Taylor grinned as she hurried over.  She liked Chris; he was always polite, and
accepted her at face value.  And that was something she liked.
 
If what happened to me hadn’t happened, and someone like Chris asked me out … I
might have even said yes, she thought wistfully.  Had a normal life.  Normal
worries.  He’s nice boy.  Even if I can’t understand what he’s talking about
half the time.
 
Chris was sitting around the table with Lisa, Missy and Dennis.  Taylor slid in
beside Chris and put her helmet on the table.  “So, what’s going on?” she asked
with a wide grin.
 
Chris pointed at Lisa.  “She’s telling us stuff about you that I don’t know if
she’s pulling our legs or not.”
 
Lisa gave Taylor her vulpine smirk.  She was going by the name of Insight since
she had joined the Wards, and if Taylor was to believe half the stories, she
was enjoying herself immensely, usually at someone else’s expense.  But she was
also proving to be an enormously valuable asset to the team.
 
Taylor gave her a flat look.  “You know you shouldn’t be telling those stories
without authorisation.”
 
Lisa grinned wider.  “Hey, these are Wards.  They’re trustworthy.  Says so on
the box.  And I gotta tell someone.  If only to see their faces when you
confirm.”
 
“Okay, seriously,” said Chris.  “Coil?  His whole organisation?”
 
Taylor sighed and nodded.  “He had Lisa under threat.  So we removed the
threat, removed a problem from Brockton Bay, and gained a valuable new
recruit.  Win-win-win.”
 
“Okay, fine, I can accept that,” said Chris. “Dennis, didn’t you have a
question?”
 
Dennis seemed to have trouble lifting his gaze from where her newly enhanced
breasts proudly jutted out the front of her costume. Missy elbowed him
surreptitiously. He jerked his eyes to her face and said, “Ah, yeah.”  His face
started heating up.  “I heard a rumour that the Nine being taken down, and Jack
Slash being taken out, was you and Pathfinder.”
 
Taylor grinned at him – hey, I like ‘em too, so I can’t blame you – and
nodded.  “It’s sort of classified, but yeah.  We were in the Director’s office,
and she sort of asked us where they were. As a test, I guess.  So I told her. 
They ordered a tactical strike that evening, and a little while later,
Pathfinder and I took some soldiers in and rescued some hostages from Jack
Slash.”
 
“Wow,” said Missy.  “And, uh, the Merchants?  Was that you too?”
 
Taylor sighed.  “Someone has been definitely talking when they shouldn’t.”
 
“Hey,” said Lisa.  “No-one told me it was classified.”
 
“No-one said it was okay to talk about it, either,” Taylor said firmly. 
“You’re the intuitionist.  You’re the last one who can claim ‘no-one told me’.”
 
Lisa grinned, unrepentant.  Dennis said, “Well, is it true?”
 
Taylor sighed again.  “Yes, it’s true.  I started tracking a lot of lost
runaways, mainly teenage girls, to the Merchants. They’d been taking them in,
then drugging them up and forcing them to service their members.”
 
“By ‘service’ you mean …” began Chris, looking sick.
 
“Yes,” said Taylor firmly.  “Exactly that.  So I told the Director, she ordered
a strike.  The capes were in cells before they even knew what hit them.  The
Merchants have been dismantled, and they’re all facing multiple charges. 
Kidnap, unlawful imprisonment, and others.”
 
“Others?” asked Missy.
 
“The type of charges that I’m not going to talk about,” said Taylor firmly.
 
“I’m a big girl,” protested Missy.  “I can take it.”  But she looked a little
green around the gills.
 
Taylor shook her head.  “I’m a big girl, and I couldn’t take it for too long.”
She’d seen the conditions the girls were kept in, and it was all she could do
to keep herself from having Danny take her to where Skidmark was being kept,
pulling her little pistol, and …
 
Chris put an arm around her shoulders.  “Bad, huh?” he said quietly.  
 
She leaned into him.  “The worst,” she replied.
 
She had cried, that night.  Danny had held her and comforted her, and when she
finally begged him to make love to her, to let the good wash away the bad, his
sweetness and gentleness had almost made her cry again, out of love for him.
 
But memories like that could not be exorcised by one night of love.  Comfort
was something she took where she could find.
 
“It’s the nature of the beast,” he said gently, squeezing her shoulders. 
“We’re superheroes.  We have to deal with crap like this.  People do bad things
to each other, we’re the ones who have to sort it out.  We don’t get called in
for the good stuff.”
 
“Yeah,” said Dennis.  “Just for once, I’d like to get called in to judge a
talent show, or a wet t-shirt contest or something.”
 
There was silence for a moment, then Dennis said, “Yeah, I said that out loud,
didn’t I?”
 
Chris nodded.  “In front of three girls.  Good going, champ.”
 
There was an awkward silence, broken by Missy trying hard, and failing, not to
giggle.  Dennis’ face just got redder and redder.
 
Then Taylor snickered.  Everyone looked at her questioningly.
 
“I was just thinking,” she said, “if there was a cape wet t-shirt competition,
who would enter, who would win, and who the hell would dare try to judge it?”
 
“You have a distinct point there,” grinned Chris. He started chuckling,
followed by Lisa and Missy.  Even Dennis snickered a few times.
 
“Wait, wait,” said Missy.  “If we were having a wet t-shirt competion and
Leviathan attacked, would he stop to watch?”
 
Chris laughed out loud.  “They could hire him on to keep the contestants wet
down.”
 
More laughter arose at the table.  Lisa managed to choke out, “they could ask
him to judge!” before cracking up altogether.
 
Taylor couldn’t help laughing along with everyone else.  “Hey,” she grinned.
“Maybe we should have one for the guys. Show off those abs.  And no matter who
won, no matter what happened to the judge afterward, they could get a great
calendar out of it.”
 
Silence fell then, as people considered a wet t-shirt calendar composed of
capes.
 
“Dang,” said Chris at last.  “I’d buy one.”
 
Missy nodded.  “I’d wait for the ‘hot guys’ edition.”
 
Lisa grinned and ruffled her hair.  “Go you halves in it.”
 
Missy grinned at her.  “Get your own damn calendar.”  Everyone chuckled.
 
Lisa grabbed Missy and hugged her.  “Don’t ever change,” she said with a grin.
 
“So, Taylor,” said Chris, almost totally casually, “does your dad let you
date?”
 
“Ah,” she said.  “Just so you guys know, he’s not my biological dad.  It’s a
sort of long-term adoption thing.  But yeah, he pretty well gives me free
rein.  I just … don’t, I guess.  I prefer to stay in, most nights.”
 
“Wow,” said Missy.  “That sounds kinda boring.  No offense.”
 
Taylor shrugged.  “I didn’t have a social life before I got my powers.  And
afterward … I’ve been sort of busy. Really busy.  As someone has been telling
you about, when they shouldn’t have been.”  She directed a mock glare at Lisa,
who grinned back at her.
 
“But if someone happened to ask you for a date, and your dad didn’t have a
problem, you’d be free to say yes, right?” asked Chris, once again almost
managing to sound just mildly curious.
 
“Uh, sure?” said Taylor.  He’s gonna ask me for a date.  I know he is.  She
wasn’t sure how she really felt about that, but the tiny thrill of delight in
her stomach said that some part of her wanted him to.
 
“Taylor, would you go on a date with me?” asked Dennis, in a rush.
 
Taken by surprise, Taylor reflexively said, “Sure, okay,” before stopping and
staring at him.  “Wait, what?”
 
Chris also stared at him, looking almost betrayed. “Dude, what the hell?”
 
“Shit, Chris, I’m sorry,” said Taylor.  “I thought you were going to ask me.”
 
“I was,” said Chris, then stared daggers at his friend.
 
Dennis looked around at the disapproving gazes coming his way, reddened, then
said, “Oh, what the fuck.  You don’t have to come on the date with me, Taylor. 
I’m sorry, Chris.  I shouldn’t have butted in like that.”  He got up and walked
off.
 
Taylor turned to Chris.  “Why yes,” she said softly, “I would like to go on a
date with you.”
 
He stared at her.  “You would?”
 
She nodded, and kissed him on the cheek. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to
go and have a chat with Dennis.”
 
***
 
She found him in his room.  It wasn’t a great feat of detection; she barely had
to use her power at all.  She knocked on his door.
 
“What?” she heard from inside.
 
“It’s Taylor.  Can we talk?” she called through the door.
 
There was a long pause.  “What about?”
 
She rolled her eyes.  “What do you think?”
 
“Are you just going to yell at me?”
 
She sighed.  “No.  I really do want to talk.”
 
After another moment, he opened the door.  She entered, and carefully closed
and locked it behind her.  He stared at her.
 
She sat down on his bed, and patted a spot next to her.  “Sit,” she ordered,
unnecessarily.  He sat.
 
“Dennis,” she said.  “I’ve been in the Wards for a month now, and barely a day
has gone by without you staring at my chest, and probably my butt as well.”
 
He reddened again.  “You said you weren’t going to yell at me,” he mumbled.
 
“I’m not,” she said.  “I’m making a comment, and inviting a reply.”
 
He blinked.  “Um … yes?  I like to look at your breasts?”
 
She shook her head.  “You’re not looking at my breasts.  You’re looking at my
breasts inside clothing.  You want to see what they look like without anything
covering them, and so you stare at my chest, in the hope that my top will
spontaneously disappear.”
 
He chuckled reluctantly.  “I guess.  It’s a guy thing.”
 
She nodded.  “Sure. But you’re a teammate, and I don’t need you getting
distracted because you’re wondering what my breasts look like.”
 
He shrugged.  “I already figured that out.  But my eyes haven’t.”
 
She looked him in the eye.  “Do you want to know what my breasts feel like? 
Would that help your curiosity any?”
 
He blinked twice in rapid succession.  “Uh, yeah.  Yeah!”
 
She smiled.  “Give me your hands.”  He held out his hands.  She placed them on
her breasts.  “Go ahead. Squeeze them, feel them.  Let me know when you’re
done.”
 
His face alight with something akin to wonder, he gently kneaded and squeezed
her breasts, running his hands over the cloth covering them, and tweaking her
nipples when he found them.
 
“Those are your nipples, right?” he said.
 
“Yes,” she said, “and they are to be treated gently.” He took in the firm tone
of her voice, and obeyed.
 
Eventually, he said, “Oh yeah, now I can die happy. Your breasts feel really
nice, Taylor.”
 
“Thank you,” she grinned; his attention to her breasts had made her feel more
than a little moist between the legs.  But he didn’t need to know that.  “I
kind of like them too.”
 
Shrugging out of her light jacket, she unfastened her top and took that off,
too.  Turning to show her back to Dennis, she said, “could you please take my
bra off?”
 
Gulping, he obeyed.  “Are you … are you going to have sex with me?”
 
She shook her head as the bra came free. “No.  I like you, but not in that
way.  But you do need to get your head straight about my breasts.”  She
shrugged it off her arms, then turned back to him.  “There.  Nothing covering
them.  Do you like what you see?”
 
He stared at them.  “Wow.  Yes. Wow.”
 
“Okay,” she said patiently, “you can touch them again. But be gentle; they’re
sensitive.”
 
So again she allowed him to caress and squeeze and hold her breasts, rather
enjoying the sensations herself; Danny knew what to do with her breasts, and he
could bring her to a boil in seconds, given access to them.  Dennis was much
less practised, and sweetly naïve.  But he was still gentle, and it felt rather
nice.
 
But eventually, again, he sat back and said, “Wow. Thanks.  That was … wow.”
 
She smiled at him and put her bra back on before re-donning her top and her
jacket.  “Now,” she said.  “Do you think you can keep your eyes on my face from
now on?”
 
He nodded earnestly.  She smiled again.  “Thanks for being a good sport about
the date, too,” she said, leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips.  He sat
there, stunned.
 
She got up and went to the door.  “Oh, and just by the way?  Even if I had gone
on a date with you?  The kiss would be all you would have gotten.  What just
happened was my thank-you for not being a dick about it.”
 
He nodded again.  “Thanks,” he said.  “Really. Ever since I met you, I’ve
wanted to talk to you, show you that I’m not just an idiot who says things to
be funny. You’re sexy and beautiful and … well, pretty damn hot.  Thanks for
not slapping me down.”
 
She grinned.  “Hey, you might not be my type, but I’m not going to be mean
about it. I’m just glad we’ve cleared the air between us.”  She tilted her
head.  “We have cleared the air, right?”
 
He nodded.  “Yeah.  We have. Thanks.  I appreciate it.”
 
She nodded.  “No problem.  See you around, Dennis.”
 
She left, closing the door behind her.  Dunno if that will help, she
thought.  But I had to try something.
 
***
 
“Wow,” said Danny.  “You told Chris he could have a date, and let Dennis have a
feel, all on the same day?”  His voice held amusement rather than censure.
 
She grinned, and slid down to start licking at his penis.  “It seemed like a
good idea at the time.”  She grinned up at him, and then sucked him into her
mouth.  He groaned as she worked the underside with her tongue, drawing her
teeth along the length as she moved her head back off of it.  When he was fully
erect, she stopped.
 
Crawling back up, she kissed him and lay back, opening her thighs for him. 
After all the sex they had had, vaginal and anal, this was still her favourite
position. Danny liked it too; she sighed as he climbed on top and sucked hard
on her nipples, then eased his penis into her soft wet vagina.
 
She kissed him as his shaft slid into her, pushing all the way to the hilt
without pause.  A soft moan escaped her as she felt herself fill up entirely
with his length.
 
“Oh god, Dad,” she murmured, “it feels like you’re bigger every time we make
love.”
 
He kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers, then began to make slow, gentle
love to her.  She moaned and moved under him, pushing her hips up toward him,
clutching him to her as her arousal mounted and mounted.  Every now and again,
he lowered his head to lick and suck at her nipples; she arched her back,
pushing them toward his mouth.
 
He deliberately worked his hips, pushing himself deep into her with every
stroke, the slow, strong friction of his penis inside her vaginal canal awoke
her passions and drove her wild with arousal.
 
When she finally came, her orgasm spread throughout her body like ripples in a
pond; he felt this, and increased his tempo dramatically.  He latched on to her
breast and sucked hard on her nipple, driving her to another climax and another
one. She cried out his name as he thrust hard and deep inside her, over and
over again, washing her body with pleasure almost unendurable.
 
And then he came himself; she felt this, and the pure orgasmic ecstasy sent her
mind spiralling into a white-out of nothing but pleasure.  He was in a similar
state, only his reflex actions allowing him to continue thrusting into her,
sliding his penis hard into the centre of her being, depositing jet after jet
of hot semen deep within her belly.
 
They came back to themselves, lying spent on the bed, holding each other and
panting hard.
 
“Oh god,” she gasped.  “Oh god.”  He rolled on to his back, his deflating penis
sliding from her slippery wet vagina, and lay there, trying to catch his
breath.  She laid her head on his chest.  “Wow, Dad,” she said.  “That was
special.”
 
He put his arm around her.  “Every time is special with you, Taylor, but yeah,
that was something different.”
 
She smiled and snuggled up to him.  “So, you’ve heard about me and the Wards. 
You still haven’t told me about you and Hannah.”
 
He groaned.  “You’re not going to let me get away without telling you, are
you?”
 
She giggled.  “Nope.”
 
“Well, fine,” he said.  “You know she asked me to meet her on the Boardwalk …”
 
***
 
“Hello, Danny,” said Miss Militia.  “It’s good to see you.”
 
He sat down next to her, looking out over the ocean. They were both out of
costume, and he supposed he looked a little ridiculous next to her trim
figure.  Panacea may have reduced his effective age and given him a muscular
tune-up, but he was still over six feet, rather taller than the woman next to
him.
 
“It’s good to see you too, Hannah,” he said.  “Is there a problem I need to
know about? Something we need to bring Compass Rose in on?”
 
She shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  She placed her hand on his hand,
where it lay on his leg.  He looked at her, startled.
 
***
 
“Hah!” said Taylor.  “Called it!”
 
“Shush,” he said, needled.  “Who’s telling this story?”
 
“Okay, okay,” she said with a teasing grin. “Go on.”
 
***
 
“Uh … Hannah,” he said.  “I … I, uh, find you extremely attractive.  I really
do.  But … you do know I’m in a committed  relationship with Taylor.”
 
She looked at him directly.  “I know,” she said.  “And I know that you love her
dearly, and that she loves you dearly. And I would not have dreamed of
intruding on that.  But …”
 
She paused.  “But … you saved my life, when we took down the Merchants.  And I
know you have been looking at me in a way more than a teammate should look at
another.”  She squeezed his hand.
 
“But … but what is there about me that attracts you so much?” he asked
helplessly.  
 
She reached up and placed her hand over his heart. “What’s in here,” she said
softly.
 
He shook his head.  “I don’t get it,” he said.
 
She smiled sadly.  “When I was young, I lost my parents.  Men came to the
village and killed all the parents, everyone over a certain age.  I have always
missed my father and mother, but mostly my father, because I have always found
myself in violent, dangerous situations.”
 
She paused, and looked steadily at him. “You are a father who found himself in
an untenable situation, but did what you had to do to get to your daughter and
save her.  You have done the difficult thing, the impossible thing, sometimes
the thing that all common sense says is the wrong thing, all to keep Taylor
safe and alive.”
 
She smiled up at him.  “You are that rare thing, a good man and a loving
father.  I admire that intensely, and find it very attractive indeed.”
 
“Wait …” he said.  “You want to sleep with me because I love Taylor so much? 
Because I sleep with her, too?”
 
She smiled, her lids lowered.  “I do not claim to understand it,” she said
softly. “All I know is what my body tells me.”
 
He shook his head wonderingly.  “Before we reach any sort of agreement here,”
he said, “I’m gonna have to talk this over with her.  You do realise this.”
 
***
 
Taylor grinned.  “Sure,” she said.  “I’m good with that.”
 
“Just like that?” asked Danny.  “You don’t mind?”
 
Taylor kissed him.  “I really like her,” she said.  “She’s great, she doesn’t
talk down to me.  Treats me like an adult.”
 
He nodded.  “I have to admit, that’s one of the reasons I like her, too.”
 
She smiled and snuggled in to his chest.  His arm tightened around her.
 
***
 
Hannah nodded seriously.  “I understand,” she said.  “And please tell her that
I will meet any conditions she sets for us.  I admire her deeply, and –“
 
***
 
“Ooh, conditions,” grinned Taylor.  “And she admires me deeply.  Seriously, did
she say that, or are you just trying to butter me up?”
 
“Shush,” he said severely, tweaking a sensitive part of her anatomy.  She
giggled and eeped.
 
“Okay, okay, I’ll be good,” she grinned.
 
***
 
“- only want good for her.”
 
Danny nodded.  “I’ll do that,” he said.  He smiled at her.  “I think she’ll
accept,” he said.  “She does like you a lot.”
 
Hannah smiled back at him.  “I know.  You have a remarkable daughter.”
 
He grinned.  “Daughter?  What daughter?  I have a teenage girlfriend.”
 
She chuckled.  “Of course.  How remiss of me.”
 
They both stood.  She turned to him.  “One more thing before you go?”
 
He looked at her.  She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him firmly on the
lips.  “Don’t forget to talk to Taylor,” she said, after she had finished.
 
He smiled sheepishly.  “No way in hell,” he grinned.  He shook hands with her,
and she started away down the Boardwalk.  He went the other way, until he could
duck into an unobserved nook, and teleport back home.
 
Now, he asked himself.  How the hell do I broach that subject with Taylor?  She
already knows,  I bet, but … 
 
Of course, as it happened, he didn’t have to worry about it.
 
***
 
“Wow,” said Dean.  “That was … wow.”
 
Vicky kissed him, running her hands over his body. “You’re pretty special
yourself,” she said with a smile.
 
He rolled off her, his semi-erect penis emerging from her blonde-tufted vagina
with a slight plop.  She snuggled up to him, kissing her way down his
chest. Not as nice as Amy’s chest, but not bad either.
 
“You’re really turned on tonight,” he said, running his hand over her flank. 
“Anything I should know for future reference?”
 
She giggled and kissed him again.  “Special circumstances,” she said, rubbing
her breasts against his chest, her turgid nipples scraping over his skin. 
“Wanna go again, or are you too tired out?”
 
Wow, she thought.  Playing around with Amy really fires me up.
 
He grinned and reached for her.
 
She let him initiate the sex play, but got on top this time. As his erection
slid into her slippery depths, she began to work her hips back and forth. 
Under her, he groaned.
 
When Amy and I start having sex, she thought, I am going to have to get her a
dildo.
 
And then she thought of nothing more but giving and receiving pleasure.
***** Three Dates and Three Spankings (Part One) *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny goes on a date with Hannah. Taylor goes on a date with Chris.
     Amy goes on a date with Vicky. After misadventures in the restaurant,
     with Emma and Madison, they attend a movie, then return for more
     private pleasures. But there is trouble on the horizon ...

[Author's Note: Sorry, but this post kept on expanding.  So now it's two
posts.]
 
 Danny Hebert stood in his bedroom, humming a jaunty tune.  He tied his bowtie
to perfection, then reached to take his jacket from the bed –
 
“Arrrrgh!”
 
The sound from the bathroom was accompanied by a feeling of intense frustration
and despair.  Strolling casually from the bedroom, he pulled on the jacket and
set his cuffs just right before leaning in at the bathroom door.
 
“Is everything all right, kiddo?” he enquired cheerfully.
 
Taylor, clad in very brief underwear, leaned over the bathroom sink, glaring at
herself in the mirror as she scrubbed her face clean. The pinkness of her skin
indicated that this was not the first time.
 
“Fuck fuck fuck, arrrgh!” she snarled again.
 
“Not an answer, Taylor,” he replied with some amusement.
 
“Tell me again why we’re even doing this,” she said, turning to him.
 
“Because we both need a little romance in our lives,” he reminded her
patiently.  “All we’ve got is an amazingly good sexual connection.  Which is
nice, but it’s not the be-all and end-all.  We need to go out with people we
trust, who can surprise us with nice things.”  He took her chin in his hand. 
“What wehave will never change, but we need to see what the world will offer
us.”
 
She folded her arms.  “Well, you’re gonna have to tell Chris the date’s off.  I
can’t do this shit.”
 
“Do what?” he asked mildly.
 
She threw up her hands.  “Everything!  I haven’t got a nice dress that will fit
me anymore, thanks to this,” she gestured at her shapely body, “and I have no
fucking idea how to do makeup.  I know what I want to look like.  What
I actually end up looking like is an epileptic clown.”  She sat down on the
toilet lid, put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.  “Except for
the actual sex bit, I suck at being a woman.”
 
“And that’s a bit limiting, yes,” he agreed.
 
She sighed.  “Fine.  If that’s how it’s gonna be.”  She stood up, pulled the
panties down, bent over the bench.  “Want a quickie before you go?   I’ll
understand if you want to bring Hannah back here for some sex. I’ll stay out of
your way.”
 
He raised an eyebrow.  “Put those back on, kiddo.  You give up too easily. 
Credit your old man with some problem-solving skills.”
 
She frowned, but pulled her panties back up. They did hug her ass very closely
indeed; Danny made a mental note to take her up on her offer, at some later
date.
 
He led her into the bedroom, and opened the closets on her side of the bed. 
They’d been talking about moving her clothes into his bedroom, but neither one
had made the first move quite yet.
 
Opening the doors, he found a row of dresses on hangers.  “Your mother was a
little taller and a little smaller in the bust than you are, Taylor.  But these
should fit you reasonably well.”  Taking one one dress after another, he held
them up against her body, until he found one in a delicate blue pattern; powder
blue fading to navy.
 
“Try this one on,” he suggested.
 
She did, wriggling into it.  It fitted well enough, albeit slightly tight
across the chest.  Taylor undid a couple of buttons, exposing her cleavage, and
it fitted better.  Danny approved of the view.
 
“Nice,” he said.  “Now, there should be a pair of shoes to match that.  Your
mother never bought a dress without the matching shoes.”
 
Taylor quickly found them; her feet fitted into them well enough.
 
“Ah –“ he said.  “Stockings.”
 
They found a pair, and he painstakingly and lovingly rolled them on to her
legs, copping more than one feel on the way, ensuring the seams were straight. 
There was a momentary delay while they found a garter belt – lifting her skirt
well above her waist to put it on – and attached the stockings to it.  The
temptation to engage in some sexual play while in that position was almost
overwhelming, but he resisted.  Letting her skirt drop, he put the shoes on her
feet.
 
“Stand up,” he said.  “Take a couple of steps.”
 
She stood, and he watched, and it was eerie; if he half-closed his eyes, he
could almost swear it was Annette standing there. The heels were only medium
height, and she soon mastered the trick of walking in them.
 
“Now, you’ve got your hair done, right?” he asked.
 
She nodded.  “A brush and a hairband should work there.  But my makeup –“
 
He smiled.  “Leave that to me.”
 
She frowned.  “You can do makeup?”
 
He chuckled.  “Oh, god no.  I’d probably foul it up worse than you did.  But I
do know when to call on a friend.”
 
“A friend?” she asked.  
 
He nodded.  “Where is Hannah at the moment?”
 
She put her hand on his, and he knew.  A puff of purple-brown smoke, and he was
gone.
 
***
 
Amy finished the final dabs of the lipstick just as Victoria entered her
bedroom.  “Hi, Vicky,” she said happily.  “Ready to go?”
 
Vicky nodded.  “Or, you know,” she said, “we could just stay right here and
pretend we went out.”  She indicated the bed.  “I could finally get you all the
way naked, and do what you’ve wanted to do with me like forever.”
 
Amy giggled and kissed her sister on the lips. The kiss went from playful to
serious to passionate.  They held each other tightly, eyes closed, bodies
moving against one another.
 
Finally, Amy broke the kiss, breathing hard. “No,” she said, trying to catch
her breath.  “We’ll go out, have another fun date.  But you can kiss me any
time you want.”  She took a deep breath. “Maybe tonight … tonight, after we get
home.   We might do it then.” She smiled at Victoria.  “I just want it to be
perfect.”
 
Vicky held Amy close, cheek to cheek.  “It already is perfect with you, Ames,”
she said softly.
 
Amy snuggled into her embrace.
 
***
 
Hannah hummed to herself as she put the brush through her gleaming black hair. 
She was looking forward to this date.  Danny was nice and kind and sweet, and
he did so love his daughter.
 
There was a puff of purple-brown smoke behind her, and she turned with a .50
caliber Desert Eagle in her hand before she registered that it was Danny.
 
“I thought you weren’t picking me up until seven,” she said, tucking the pocket
pistol into a small thigh holster.
 
He nodded.  “That was the plan.  But I have a crisis and an upset teenager, who
needs a woman’s touch.”
 
Hannah’s lips quirked upward.  “That sounds interesting.  How can I help?”
 
He smiled at her.  “Your expertise with makeup is needed.”
 
She held out her hand.  “Let us go, then.”
 
He took it, smoke billowed around them, and they vanished.
 
***
 
Taylor didn’t even look up as they appeared in the bathroom next to her.
 
Danny nodded at Hannah.  “I’ll leave you to it.”  He strolled from the
bathroom, leaving them alone.
 
Hannah took Taylor’s hand, bringing her to a standing position.  “Let’s see
now.  Hold still.”  She examined the makeup kit open on the washbasin stand.
“Your mother’s?”
 
Taylor nodded.  “She could make herself so beautiful with it.  I make myself
look like an angry raccoon.”
 
Hannah chuckled.   “Well, all the basics seem to be there.”  She took
foundation, dabbed it on.  Then she added eyeshadow, lipstick and just a touch
of blush, her hands moving swiftly and surely.
 
“There,” she said, in far less time than Taylor expected.  “See for yourself.”
 
Taylor looked in the mirror, and gasped.  
 
She was transformed; her eyes were larger, her cheekbones higher, her lips
fuller.  And the makeup wasn’t even visible as makeup.
 
“Oh my god,” she said.  “Dad … come here and tell me what you see, please.”
 
He stepped in through the door and nodded approvingly.  “Nice,” he said. 
“Very, very nice.”
 
Taylor hugged Hannah.  “Thank you,” she said.  “I was totally lost there.  All
I know how to put on is lip gloss.”
 
Hannah smiled.  “I can show you how, later,” she offered.
 
Taylor nodded.  “Yes, please,” she said.  “That would be so great.”
 
Hannah tied back her hair and helped Taylor put a hairband in hers, then turned
to Danny.  “We’re ready to go,” she said with a smile.
 
Danny pulled back his sleeve and checked his watch. “And still five minutes to
go,” he said.  “We’re doing well.”  He looked to Taylor.  “Where’s Chris?”
 
Taylor blinked once.  “Ready and waiting.  Wow. He looks really nice.”
 
Danny nodded.  “And so he should.”  He took her hand with his left, and
Hannah’s with his right.  “Ready?”
 
Hannah nodded; Taylor didn’t even have to do that. Smoke billowed, and they
were gone.
 
***
 
Chris jumped as the three of them appeared before him in a cloud of smoke. 
“Jesus!” he exclaimed.
 
“No,” Danny corrected him with a grin.  “Just us.  Ready to go?”
 
Chris nodded jerkily, and took Taylor’s proffered hand.  “You look –“ he
managed, before smoke billowed again.
 
***
 
“ – really nice,” he finished, as they appeared on the Boardwalk, between two
buildings.
 
“Thank you,” she said with a smile.  “So do you.”  She took his arm and nodded
to Danny.  “Thanks for the lift.  We’ll see you.”
 
Danny grinned.  “Anytime.  Just let me know.”
 
Turning in opposite directions, the two couples strolled away along the
Boardwalk.
 
***
 
“So where to first?” asked Victoria as she carried her sister aloft.
 
“I was thinking a meal down on the Boardwalk,” said Amy thoughtfully.  “That
new café that’s just opened.  It’s really popular.  And I hear they do a great
fettucine.”
 
“Boardwalk it is,” Vicky grinned.  “Hang on to your tonsils.”  And she dived.
 
Amy’s delighted shriek of mock terror followed them down.
 
***
 
Danny, with Hannah on his arm, strolled casually along until they reached a
restaurant just off the main drag; it was not flashy or glitzy, but seemed to
get by on understated elegance.
 
She looked up at the tall man at her side. Perhaps at one time he had been
skinny and gawky, but since Panacea’s treatment, he was lean and tough, and
moved with a certain assurance.  He also cleaned up remarkably well; his attire
might be just a little old-fashioned, but he wore it with panache.
 
Danny looked down at Hannah.  She had a trim, fit body, strong without being
muscle-bound. The dress she wore clung to her like a second skin; she was no
Taylor, but he still found himself appreciating the view down her cleavage.
 
Their gazes met, and they smiled.  Each knew more or less what the other had
been thinking, and did not mind at all.
 
"I'm glad you talked me into this," he said. "It's been too long since I was on
a date."
 
She smiled up at him.  "It's been too long since I had someone I wanted to go
on a date with," she replied.
 
The maitre'd took their names and found their booking, and a waiter escorted
them to their table.  Danny helped Hannah out of her jacket and then seated
her, drawing a pleased smile from her.  Old-fashioned indeed, she
thought.  I like it.
 
He sat opposite, and just looked at her as the waiter placed menus on the
table.  She caught his gaze and flushed dark.  "What?" she asked.
 
"We're not going to have the chance to do this often," he said, putting his
large hand palm-up on the table between them. She placed her hand delicately in
his. "I want to remember every moment.". His fingers closed over hers, warm and
strong.
 
She nodded.  Miss Militia was too prominent, too needed, to go out on dates
every other day.  Compass Rose and Pathfinder were likewise usually so busy
that an evening off such as this was unthinkable.  However, their teamwork in
taking down first Coil and then the Merchants had made them very much the
flavour of the month, and Director Piggot had seen her way clear to approving
the time off. 
 
The waiter brought the wine list, and Hannah selected a bottle.  They made
their orders, and the waiters bore the menus away in triumph.  He lifted her
hand from the table.  She looked at him questioningly.  He nodded toward the
small dance floor nearby, where a slow waltz was playing.
 
"Shall we?" he asked.
 
She smiled, and rose with him.
 
***
 
"Your dad - I mean, your step-dad - is really amazingly cool about this,"
commented Chris as they walked along. "Most fathers would be all intimidating
and 'touch my daughter and die' and stuff."
 
Taylor sighed.  "Chris," she said, "Yes, he's amazing.  He's my dad. But we're
not here to talk about him. We're here to talk about you and me.". 
 
She squeezed his arm tighter, moved in closer to him.  He could clearly feel
the warm pressure of her breast against his arm, through the cloth.  He
gulped. 
 
"So tell me,” she said softly, “something about you that I didn't know before."
 
“Um … well … I suck at math,” he blurted.
 
She looked around at him quizzically. “What, really?” she asked with a grin.
“But you’re a –“
 
He nodded.  “A Tinker, yeah,” he agreed.  “But what I build, I build by eye.  I
don’t have to work out the maths for it; I just build what looks good.”
 
“Cool,” she said.  “I definitely didn’t know that about you.”
 
“Okay,” he said, “now you tell me something I didn’t know about you.”
 
I have sex with my dad every night.  She paused.  Yeah, no, that’s a date-
killer, right there.
“Umm,” she said.  “Have you read my file?”
 
He shook his head.  “Nope.  I just know that you can find things, and
Pathfinder can teleport.”
 
She took a deep breath.  “I nearly committed suicide before I got my powers.”
 
He stopped, shocked.  Stared at her.  “Christ. I didn’t know.”
 
She let go his arm, moved into a hug.  He held her awkwardly.
 
“It’s not something that many people know,” she said softly into his ear.  “I
was bullied, terribly, for more than two years.  Shadow Stalker was one of the
bullies.  You know that bit.”
 
He nodded.  “Yeah, I know.”   He didn’t sound happy.
 
“I ... the beginning of Christmas break, they took something I valued highly. 
A flute belonging to my mother.  I was heartbroken.  I was broken.  That night
... I was going to do it.  End it all.  But Dad spotted it, pulled me
through.”  She did not say how.
 
“And then you got your powers?” he asked.
 
She nodded.  “And then I got my powers.   And Dad got his.  And it’s all good
now.”
 
“Wow,” he said.  “That’s big.  That’s really big.”
 
She nodded.  “You asked.”
 
He chuckled.  “You have a point.”  He squeezed her one last time – it was nice,
hugging her – and released her. She took his arm once more.  They continued on.
 
Their destination was an upmarket cafe, trendy and hip. Definitely aimed at the
teenage crowd. Chris noted with some satisfaction that very few of the girls
there even began to measure up to the standard that Taylor set.
 
One exception was a girl he knew.  “Hey,” he said.  “Isn’t that Vicky Dallon? 
 Glory Girl?”
 
Taylor looked.  It was Vicky, all right, in the middle of an animated
conversation with her sister. They were eating some sort of fettucine that
looked delicious.
 
Then she looked farther, and stiffened slightly.  “Great,” she muttered.
 
“What?” asked Chris.  “What’s the matter?”
 
She indicated with her head.  “See that table down the back?  The redhead and
the cute brunette and the others with them?”
 
Chris nodded.  He’d already spotted them; the redhead was the only one who
rivalled Taylor for looks and poise.  “Yeah,” he said.  “What about them?”
 
“They’re the other two,” she said flatly.  She didn’t have to elaborate.
 
“Shit,” he said.  “Do you want to go?”
 
She shook her head.  “I’m not letting Emma fucking Barnes make me take one more
step back, ever,” she growled.  Head high, moving with purpose, she walked into
the cafe on his arm.  
 
“Amy!” said Taylor, when they got close enough.  “Vicky!”
 
The sisters looked around, and both smiled.  “Taylor!” said Amy, half a second
ahead of her sister. “And ... Chris, isn’t it?”
 
Chris smiled.  “The same,” he said.  He looked at Vicky.  “Haven’t seen you
around much, recently,” he commented.
 
Vicky smiled.  “I’ve been busy,” she said.  “How about you?  Any new projects?”
 
He nodded as he sat down; Taylor noted with amusement that it was altogether
too easy to deflect a Tinker from any topic.  All you had to ask him what he
was working on, and he was all too happy to give you chapter and verse. 
“Yeah,” he said.  “I’ve got this idea for something I call an Alternator
Cannon.  It’s got some interesting possibilities.”
 
Amy was looking at the pair of them.  “Wait a minute,” she said.  “Are you two
... on a ... date?”
 
Taylor grinned at her and nodded, putting her handbag on the seat beside her. 
She reached across and took Chris’ hand to illustrate.
 
Amy looked a little surprised.  “Does ... is there any problem with ...”
 
Taylor giggled.  “No,” she said.  “He’s on a date with Miss Militia.”
 
Amy’s look of bemusement increased.  “And you don’t mind ...?”
 
Taylor shook her head.  “I like her.  I think she’ll be good for him.”
 
Chris frowned.  “Is there something I’m missing here?” he asked.
 
Taylor smiled at him and squeezed his hand.  “I’ll tell you later,” she said. 
“Right now, let’s just enjoy ourselves.”
 
Amy gave her a look, one eyebrow raised.  He doesn’t know?
 
Taylor replied with a slight shake of the head, and a momentary frown.  No, and
please don’t tell him.
 
Amy raised her eyebrows fractionally and grinned at her. This should be good.
 
Taylor wrinkled her nose at her.
 
“Wow,” said Chris.  “Girl code.  You two just had an entire conversation,
didn’t you?”
 
Taylor started giggling.  “Something like that,” she said fondly.  She took
both of his hands in hers.  “So,” she invited.  “Tell me about this Alternator
Cannon.”
 
***
 
Danny was a little rusty at dancing, but it came back to him. Hannah was an
excellent partner; she followed his movements exactly, and made him feel like
the best dancer in the world.  She pressed close to him, her head against his
chest, as they moved smoothly around the dance floor.
 
The music was soft, the beat was slow, and he had a beautiful woman in his
arms.  Danny danced, and enjoyed every moment.
 
***
 
Hannah had not danced for some time, but she never forgot anything. The moves
were there for her to use as soon as she stepped on to the floor.  It wasn’t
hard to subtly guide Danny until he got back into the rhythm of it, and he was
a surprisingly good dancer.  She snuggled close, and put her head against his
chest.
 
The music was soft, the beat was slow, and she had a strong and gentle man
holding her in his arms.  Hannah danced, and enjoyed every moment.
 
***
 
Halfway through the meal, Chris was still talking.  Taylor was getting about
one word in three, but she understood it to be a fairly advanced weapon, one
with multiple applications.  Usually with the word ‘damage’ appended, or at
least heavily implied.
 
He was just trying to explain, with gestures, how the anti-gravity turret was
supposed to work when a new voice cut across the conversation.
 
“Taylor?  Taylor Hebert?  Is that you?”
 
Chris stopped talking and turned toward the speaker.  Taylor did also.
 
Emma Barnes stood there, with her coterie at her back.  She was staring at
Taylor, as if seeing her for the first time.
 
Taylor looked calmly at her.  “Hello, Emma,” she said in a level tone of
voice.  “Fancy meeting you here.”
 
Emma looked at her face, her hair, her dress, and obviously could not find a
thing to pick at there.  Then she looked at Chris.  “Christ, Hebert,” she
said.  “Are you on a date?  How much did your father have to pay him to come
out with you?”
 
Chris stood.  “Miss Barnes,” he said formally, “I asked Taylor to come on this
date with me.  Now, I’m going to ask you to move along, so that we can enjoy it
in peace.”
 
Emma’s eyes opened just a little wider as he addressed her by name, and then
much wider as he gave her the request to leave.  Madison whispered to her.
 
“You know she’s had a boob job,” she said spitefully.  “That’s probably why she
went to the hospital.” She looked at Taylor.  “I’m surprised your father even
paid for something like that.  Maybe he was just desperate for someone to pay
attention to you, so he could get you out of his hair.”
 
“You should leave now,” said Chris, very quietly, “or I will call the
management and have you thrown out.”
 
“Fine, I’m going,” said Emma, and moved past the table. Madison followed, but
she dropped her handbag as she brushed past the table.  She knelt quickly and
retrieved it, then stood and went to follow Emma.
 
“Give it back,” said Taylor clearly.
 
Emma stopped and turned.  “Give what back?” she asked innocently.
 
“Madison just took my purse out of my handbag,” said Taylor, not moving.  “It’s
in her bag.  Give it back, right now, and I don’t call the police.”
 
Chris noted the involuntary flinch from Madison.  “Did you take her purse?” he
asked.
 
“No, I didn’t,” retorted Madison.  She stared as Chris moved forward and took a
firm hold of the strap of her handbag.  “Hey, let that go!”
 
“Not until you give Taylor her purse back,” he said flatly.
 
“She’s delusional!” she retorted.  “I haven’t got her purse!”
 
“Taylor,” said Chris, without taking his eyes from Madison, “what does your
purse look like?”
 
“Dark blue, with a white stripe across it,” Taylor said, still not moving from
her seat.
 
“Let go my bag!” shouted Madison.  “He’s trying to steal my bag!”  Across the
cafe, heads turned.  Chris felt heat rising in his face.  Madison gave him a
look of triumph, and wrenched at her handbag strap. He didn’t let go.
 
Two waiters approached.  “Can we assist in some way?” the older one asked.
 
“Yes,” said Chris immediately, his voice carrying as well as Madison’s had. 
“This girl stole my date’s purse.  It’s in this handbag, right here.  I want
her to give it back.  Can you get the manager, now, please?”
 
***
 
When they got back to the table, the meals had been served and the chilled wine
was ensconced in an ice bucket.  Danny worked the cork out carefully and poured
them both a reasonable measure of the sparkling beverage.  It was dry and tart,
and went wonderfully with the meal.
 
Over dinner, they spoke inconsequentially of many things. She was interested in
his personal crusade to get the ferry service up and running again, and of his
work with the Dockworkers’ Association.  He told her about Taylor, and about
Annette, and how she had died.  She squeezed his hand sympathetically, and he
smiled gratefully.
 
She told him about her childhood, and how men had come to the village and
killed her parents and all the other adults.  How she had manifested her powers
when in the extremity of peril.  How she had been discovered as a parahuman,
and brought to America.  And how she loved America, for all its faults and
flaws, because it was a nation that truly tried to better itself.
 
Partway through the meal, he paused and frowned.
 
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
 
“Something’s wrong ... Taylor’s concerned and irritated ... but it’s being
dealt with,” he said.  “She’ll let me know if I’m needed.”
 
She raised an eyebrow.  “The bond between you is that strong?” she asked.
 
He nodded.  “Since we got our powers, yes.  We were close before; now we’re two
parts of the same person, almost.”
 
She nodded in turn.  “I confess, I feel a little jealous of that.  Your
closeness, your togetherness.  You and I, we do not have that.”  She smiled. 
“But I suppose we’re just going to have to make do, like everyone else does.”
 
He grinned back at her, and squeezed her hand.
 
***
 
Taylor felt her father’s reassurance in the back of her mind as she watched the
confrontation.  It was good to know that he was there if she needed him.
 
But right now, it didn’t seem that she did.
 
The manager had been summoned, and had listened to Chris’ assertion that
Madison had stolen her purse and that it was now inside Madison’s handbag. 
However, Madison’s loud denials, and her outright refusal to allow anyone to
look into her handbag had stalled the process somewhat.
 
“My father’s a lawyer,” announced Emma firmly, “and he will sue this place down
to the bedrock if you continue to hold my friend against her will like this.”
 
The manager began to waver.  Amy leaned across the table and spoke softly and
vehemently to Vicky, who sighed and stood up.
 
“Excuse me,” she said.  “I’m Glory Girl, with New Wave.  What seems to be the
problem?”
 
The manager’s look of relief was patently obvious.  “We have a case of alleged
theft,” he said.  “If you could get the police –“
 
Vicky raised an eyebrow.  “I can go one better,” she said.  Grabbing the bag,
she pulled it open, despite Madison’s best efforts to hold it closed.  “Oh,
look,” she said.  “A blue purse with a white stripe across it.  Whoever’s could
that be?”
 
“That’s mine!” shouted Madison.  “Leave my property alone!”
 
“Taylor,” called Chris from where he still held the handbag strap.  “Do you
have any ID in your purse?”
 
“I do,” called Taylor back.  “My school identity card.”
 
Madison tried to grab the purse, but Glory Girl got there first. She plucked it
from the bag, opened it, and displayed the ID within to one and all.  “School
ID in the name of ... Taylor Hebert.”  She showed it to the manager.  “Looks
like it to you?”
 
He read the name.  “Yes, Glory Girl, it does,” he agreed.
 
“So you’re satisfied that this is the property of that girl, there, rather than
this girl, here?”
 
He nodded.  “It certainly looks that way.”
 
“Thank you,” she said, and tossed the purse back to Taylor, who caught it
neatly and tucked it back into her handbag.  “Now,” said Vicky to Madison. 
“Would you care to explain why you took her purse?”
 
“It was just a joke,” said Madison sulkily.  “I was going to give it back.”
 
“Some joke,” commented Victoria.  “Seems like felony theft to me.”  She turned
to Emma.  “And you’re an accessory, seeing that you tried to deflect blame from
her.”
 
“My father’s a lawyer,” said Emma again, more weakly.
 
“A divorce attorney,” supplied Taylor from where she sat.
 
“Really?” responded Vicky, looking at Emma with raised eyebrows. “You were
threatening us with a divorce lawyer?  Seriously? My mom’s a real lawyer, and
she’d tear your dad to shreds.  Carol Dallon?  Brandish? Ring a bell?”
 
It obviously did; Emma wilted some more.
 
“Good,” said Vicky, obviously enjoying herself immensely. “Now sit down, shut
up and wait for the cops.”   She nodded to Chris. “Thank you for your
assistance in this matter, citizen.  My sister will take your details; the
police will contact you in due course.”
 
Chris nodded, released his grip on Madison’s handbag, and went back to sit with
Taylor.  Taylor grinned at him and squeezed his hand.  He grinned back.
 
“Thanks, Amy,” she said quietly to the biokinetic.
 
Amy nodded and smiled.  “That’s fine.  Vicky’s loving this.  She hasn’t had the
chance to yell at someone in a while.”
 
***
 
Danny put his dessert spoon down and rubbed his stomach. “That was heavenly,”
he said.
 
Opposite him, Hannah did much the same.  “Oh, yes,” she agreed.  They had each
had another glass of the wine, after demolishing their meals to great effect. 
She took his hand.  “Danny,” she said softly, “I’m really, really enjoying
tonight.  Thank you for being here, with me.”
 
He smiled and squeezed her hand.  “Sometimes it’s a good idea to reconnect, on
a personal level,” he said.  “It’s too easy to let our public identities become
more important than our private identities.”
 
He called for the check and paid the bill, then stood and assisted Hannah in
putting her coat on once more.  She smiled and leaned back into him as he did
so.
 
They exited the restaurant, and started along the Boardwalk to where Danny knew
Taylor was.
 
“What’s happening?” she asked him.
 
“Not sure,” he said.  “It’s under control, but she’s both pleased and
aggravated.”  He shrugged.  “I guess we’ll find out.”
 
“I’m sure we will,” she agreed.  She took his hand as they strolled along.  It
was a pleasant evening; the full moon was just rising over the ocean, leaving a
gleaming trail of silvery light to the horizon.
 
They stopped, leaning on the rail, to look at it.  A chilly breeze swept over
them and she shivered. He took her in his arms, wrapping his jacket around
her.  
 
She looked up at him.  “Danny ...” she whispered.
 
“Hannah ...” he replied, equally quietly.
 
They kissed.
 
His lips molded to hers, pressing warmly, firmly, sensuously. She moaned and
pressed up against him, letting her mouth open against his.  His tongue slid
into hers, to be met with her own tongue.  They duelled sensuously, mouths
moving against one another, holding each other close, blind to everything
except the kiss.
 
Eventually, they broke the kiss.  She looked up at him, somewhat dazed.  He
leaned against the railing.  “Wow,” he breathed.  “Wow.”
 
She nodded, put her head against his chest, and held him close. No more words
needed be said.
 
***
 
In the cafe, Taylor grinned.  Wow, Dad just lit up like a Christmas tree.  That
must be some kiss that Hannah just gave him.
 
“What’s funny?” asked Chris.
 
Her grin widened.  “Tell you later.”
 
***
 
The police arrived while Taylor and Chris were still working on dessert. 
Taylor gave a brief statement, to the effect that she’d felt a tug on her
handbag, had quickly checked, and seen it gone.  She displayed the purse; the
manager testified that it was the same one he’d seen Vicky take from Madison’s
bag.
 
Emma loudly and vociferously proclaimed her innocence in Madison’s crime;
however, several people spoke up, recalling her hurtful words to Taylor just
before the purse went missing.  Amy and Vicky were two of these.
 
After giving their details to the police, Taylor and Chris finally escaped. 
Outside, watching the drama with mild bemusement, were Danny and Hannah.
 
“It seems you can’t go anywhere without getting into trouble,” observed Danny
with a grin.  Taylor stuck her tongue out at him.
 
“So what happened in there?” asked Hannah.  “All Danny knew was that there was
a little drama, but not what it was.”
 
So Taylor related the incident with Emma, and how Glory Girl had eased the path
with her direct methods.
 
“You know, I could have just gotten it back for you,” Danny pointed out.
 
Taylor grinned at him.  “Yeah, but this is more satisfying.”
 
Danny nodded judiciously.  “I suppose it is.”  He grinned back.  “So.  Movies
now?”
 
“Oh, yes please,” said Taylor.
 
All four joined hands and vanished in a puff of purple-brown smoke.
 
***
 
They reappeared just around the corner from the movie theatre, in a dark area
where few people would be observing.  Casually, they walked around the corner
and into the theatre.
 
Moments later, Victoria landed outside, with Amy in her arms.
 
Inside, the line was fairly long, so Taylor was idly checking on the
whereabouts of her friends when she realised that Amy and Vicky were three
spaces back from them.
 
“Oh hey,” she said.  She got the attention of everyone else in the group, and
they all moved back three spaces, so that she could chat with the two New
Wavers.
 
“So how did it go with the police?” she asked.
 
“Oh, they took them in to be charged,” said Amy cheerfully. Vicky looked
satisfied with herself. 
 
Taylor nodded to her.  “Thanks for that,” she said.
 
Vicky smiled back.  “Not a problem.  Once Amy explained things to me, I
couldn’t not help you.”  She grinned.  “And it was seriously satisfying to deal
with those bitches.”
 
Taylor nodded.  “So, what are you going to see?”
 
This devolved into a general discussion between all of them. Chris wanted to
see the new Iron Man movie,  Taylor wanted to see Tangled, Danny wanted to
see Grown Ups and Miss Militia wanted to see The Expendables.  In the meantime,
Vicky wanted to see Clash of the Titans, and Amy wanted to see Flipped.
 
And then, farther down the list, Danny spotted a digital remastering
of Casablanca.  So they all bought tickets for that.
 
Danny was a long-time aficionado of the classic movie; he watched it with
complete enjoyment.  Hannah had never seen it before, but she was fascinated. 
Chris and Taylor were a little dubious going in, and were slightly disappointed
by the lack of big action scenes, but slowly became immersed in the story,
noticing lines that had since appeared in other movies.  Amy and Victoria
enjoyed it immensely, although they spent a good deal of the movie snuggling
and kissing rather than watching the screen.
 
As they exited the cinema, Taylor turned to her father. “So that’s where that
line comes from, the one you used to Director Piggot,” she said.  “The ‘this is
the start of a beautiful friendship’ one.”
 
He nodded and grinned.  “Now you see why I’ve been telling you all these years
you should see it?” he asked.
 
She nodded.  “It was a good movie.  A really good movie,” she agreed.  “Chris?”
 
Chris nodded.  “For a movie with Nazis in it, there wasn’t much action, but it
was a really good movie anyway,” he agreed.  “I’m gonna see if I can get the
DVD so we can watch it on the big screen at the base.”
 
Amy turned to Taylor.  “Well, it was great seeing you again,” she said.  “Vicky
and me are going to take off now.  Have a good one.”
 
Taylor nodded and hugged Amy and Vicky both.  “You two take care now,” she
said.  “And thanks again.”
 
Amy smiled and kissed her on the cheek.  “No thanks necessary.  Really.”  And
then Vicky gathered her into her arms, and they disappeared into the darkness
overhead.
 
Danny looked around at the others.  “Where would you like to go now?” he asked.
 
Taylor smiled.
 
***
 
There was a burst of purple-brown smoke in the middle of the Wards’ common
area, and Danny appeared, with Miss Militia, Taylor and Chris.  A moment later,
even  before the smoke had had a chance to dissipate, the adults were gone once
more.
 
Taylor looked at Chris, and he looked at her.  She took his hand.  They walked
toward the corridor leading to the Wards’ private quarters, down the corridor,
to Chris’ door.  She looked at it, and at him.
 
“Well?” she said softly.  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
 
He opened the door, and they entered.
 
***
 
Danny and Hannah materialised in the living room of his house. He shed his
jacket; she shed her coat. They looked at one another.  And then they were in
each other’s arms, kissing. She closed her eyes; there was not even a jolt, so
she was mildly startled when she opened them again and they were standing in
his bedroom.
 
He kissed her again and again, running his lips over her neck and shoulders. 
She arched her back and made a purring noise in her throat.  Her fingers found
the buttons to his shirt, and began undoing them. He began to ease the zipper
down on her dress, sliding his hand inside and caressing the skin he found
there. She breathed deeply through her nose, and kissed him again.
 
He shrugged out of his shirt; she let her dress slither to the floor.  Her
underwear was black, lace, see-through, and very, very sexy.  He kissed her
nipples through the soft lace; she shuddered and undid his belt buckle.
 
They lay on the bed; his erection was rampant against his boxers, the only
clothing he still wore. She undid her bra, slowly, teasingly, letting it fall
away from her firm, rounded breasts, revealing her dark areolae, her pointed,
erect nipples.  He lowered his mouth to them, licking them, sucking them,
nibbling, making her cry out softly and pull his head toward her breast.
 
He eased her panties from her hips, slid them down her legs. She spread her
thighs slowly, lazily, erotically.  Smiling up at her, he got down between her
legs and began to teasingly lick at her dusky skin, close to her swollen labia,
smelling of her musky juices.  She twitched and moaned as he teased her,
nibbling and licking ever closer to the centre of her sex.
 
The first touch of his tongue upon her labia caused her to arch her back and
cry out in pleasure that was almost pain.  She held her breasts, squeezed them,
let out spasmodic soft cries as he gently but thorougly ravished her with his
tongue and lips.
 
She was so close to orgasm.  He knew it, and so did she.  He prepared to give
her the release she so desperately wanted.
 
And then both his communicator and hers went off, at the same moment. 
Emergency signal. Absolute priority.
 
***
 
Chris and Taylor sat side by side on his bed.
 
“Well, we’re alone now,” she said.  “Is there anything you want to say,
anything you want to do?”
 
He cleared his throat.  “Actually,” he said.  “Something I wanted to ask you.”
 
She looked at him inquiringly.
 
“Dennis,” he said.  “What did you do to Dennis?”
 
She blinked.  Of all the potential questions, this was not one of the ones she
would have picked.
 
“Um, nothing?” she said.
 
He snorted.  “Hah. Try again.  Seriously, he’s been creeping us all out.  He’s
actually studying now, and he hardly makes jokes at all.  And he barely even
checks out Battery’s chest anymore.  And I haven’t heard him call Director
Piggot Ms Piggy since ... well, since you did what you did.”
 
Taylor blinked.  She leaned in and kissed him.  He kissed her back.
 
“Well,” she said softly, “I just did this ...”
 
She undid more buttons on her dress until her bra was completely uncovered, and
then she reached back and took the bra all the way off.
 
He stared at her naked breasts.
 
She grinned at him.  “I showed them to him, and let him feel them up.  You want
to touch them?  You can kiss them too if you want.”
 
He didn’t need inviting twice.  She let her head loll back as the pleasurable
sensations washed through her.  He knew enough to be careful with her nipples,
and he rather quickly built up her level of arousal.
 
They undressed each other rather quickly, until he was lying on the bed wearing
just boxers, and she was kneeling astride his legs without a stitch on. 
Slowly, she drew his boxers down, until his erection was exposed in all its
rampant glory. She lowered her face to his groin, and took him in her mouth.  
 
He arched his back and groaned as she began to suck and lick at him, sliding
her lips up and down his shaft.
 
“Oh god, oh god,” he groaned.  “This is so ...”
 
She lifted her head for a moment.  “What, you’ve never had someone suck you
before?”
 
He shook his head.  “Haven’t done any of this before,” he groaned.  “God, don’t
stop.”
 
Wow, she thought.  And I thought the classic jokes about Tinkers being married
to their powers were just that, jokes.
 
She decided to make this, his first time, very special indeed.
 
She lowered his mouth to his erection again, engulfed him, began to work on him
with lips and tongue.
 
He groaned, arching his back.  He was not far away from climax.
 
And then their communicators went off, at the same moment. Emergency signal. 
Absolute priority.
 
***
 
Danny and Taylor: “Shit!”
 
Hannah and Chris: “NOOOOOO!”
 
***** Three Dates and Three Spankings (Part Two) *****
Chapter Summary
     Shipping occurs, and everyone's happy about it except Lung.
Just a Little Previously
Grue billowed darkness in a wide arc, then ran along between two train
carriages and peered around the corner of one.
 
Something round and metallic bounced toward him. He jerked back, jumped up,
clung to the side of the carriage.  The grenade boomed hollowly in his
darkness, shrapnel pinging off the rails beneath him.
 
Oni Lee, he thought.  He must be just throwing blind into the darkness.  He
gritted his teeth.  But with grenades … he doesn’t have to get all that close.
 
And then he heard the bellow.  “Where the fuck are you?  You’re dead, you
little shits!  Dead!”  And then he heard the whoosh of flame being played
across an area.
 
Fuck.  Lung.
 
He got back to the others.  Regent was hurt, a bullet wound in the hip, draped
across one of Bitch’s dogs.  Bitch had taken a graze to the calf in the same
engagement, but was toughing it out, riding astride the second dog.  The third
was hurt, a shattered leg.  How it was keeping up with the other two, Brian had
no idea.
 
We can’t run, we can’t hide and we can’t fight, he thought desperately.
 
I have to call for help.
 
***
 
Lisa lounged in her quarters in the Wards’ area of the PRT base, casually
toying with her Protectorate comm.  She was loving this.  Out of the
Undersiders, out from under Coil’s thumb.  Coil had gone down, hard.  She had
truly enjoyed watching that bit.
 
Being a superhero was a new and interesting career for her.  She wasn’t a
combat cape, so she got to stay back and propose strategies.  It was fun being
on the side where they didn’t try to arrest you all the time.  Of course,
Director Piggot had implemented a no-contact rule with regards to the
Undersiders, but Lisa had managed to sneak her old phone in anyway.  They had
her number; they could call if they needed her.
 
Her phone went off.
 
She answered it; it’s Brian, she knew.
 
“Hi, Brian,” she said cheerfully, and knew immediately that there was something
very, very wrong.
 
***
 
“Lisa!” gasped Brian.  He had opened up some of his darkness so that the signal
would get through.  “You’ve got to help us.”
 
“Christ, Brian, what – you’ve got the ABB on your ass.  When – oh, shit.  I
left you and took down Coil.  That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
 
“Yeah,” said Brian.  That was the good thing about Lisa; you never had to worry
about explaining things to her.  She usually gave you the details.  “Regent’s
hurt; he needs medical care.  Bitch is wounded too, but not as bad.  I’m good. 
Can you get any Protectorate help to us, ASAP?”
 
“I’ll do what I can,” said Lisa grimly.
 
***
 
Up till now, Lisa had been idly studying her Protectorate issue comm.  Now she
pressed several buttons, in a sequence that she had certainly never been
taught.
 
This opened a new mode in the comm, one that she was not authorised to use. 
However, since she had just entered Piggot’s authority code, it decided that
she was.
 
Rapidly, she typed in a message, then hit the SEND button.
 
Leaping off her bunk, she left her quarters at a dead sprint.
 
***
 
Now
Hannah rolled off the bed, swearing in her mother tongue.  She went to grab her
clothes.  “Don’t bother,” said Danny.  He took her hand and teleported them
both to her quarters, still naked.  Then he disappeared again. Seconds later,
her discarded clothes appeared on her bunk in a puff of smoke.
 
***
 
“You’ve got to be kidding,” groaned Chris.  “Fucking seriously.”  He looked
down at his state of arousal. “I’ll never fit this inside my armour.”
 
Purple-brown smoke puffed, and Taylor’s costume appeared on the bunk.  Thanks,
Dad.  She grabbed it and started putting it on.  Halfway through, she stopped
and looked at him.  “I refuse to let my first time with you be hurried and
unsatisfactory,” she said. “Let’s deal with this, then get back to it later. 
Trust me, I will be in the mood.”
 
Morosely, he started donning his armour sections.  Fitting the codpiece on
wasn’t easy, but he managed it.
 
Taylor had just strapped her helmet into place when Danny, in full Pathfinder
garb, appeared in the room.  He picked up her discarded clothes, and they
vanished in a puff of smoke. Then he grabbed her hand.  “Let’s go,” he said. 
He nodded to Chris.  “We’ll see you there.”
 
The comms bore a pager message to meet in the main conference room.  Taylor and
Danny had both been there before; they appeared in the middle of an empty room.
 
And then the door banged open, and Insight – Lisa – burst through.
 
“What’s the situation?” asked Pathfinder immediately.
 
“Grue just contacted me,” Insight said tersely.  “The ABB has gone after the
Undersiders.  Lung has them cornered in the Trainyards."
 
“Oh, no,” said Taylor.  She focused on the Undersiders as she knew them. 
Insight was in this room.  Grue ... was running, spreading darkness.  Bitch ...
was making her dogs grow, shouting commands to them.  Regent ... was hurt,
slumped over the back of a dog.
 
She focused on Lung.  He was immense.  Twice as tall as a man, clad in shining
metal scales, a metal-encased tail lashing behind him, breathing fire. 
Clasping Danny’s hand, she focused on the bigger picture, where they were in
relation to one another.
 
It seemed that the Undersiders were trying to break contact, but Lung and his
men were pressing them too hard.  And there was the other ...
 
She focused on Lung’s known cape minion, Oni Lee.  
 
Teleporting around the Trainyards, throwing grenades, keeping the Undersiders
off balance.
 
“Dad!” she said urgently.  “We have to go, now!”
 
“Wait –“ began Insight, but they were already gone.
 
***
 
Miss Militia was heading for the conference room at a dead run. Pathfinder and
Compass Rose appeared before her in the corridor.  She slowed to a stop;
Pathfinder grabbed her by the arm.  They went again.
 
***
 
The Trainyards, already a mess after years of neglect, were a maelstrom of
destroyed rail carriages, twisted rails, and broken ground. Miss Militia
slipped off into the shadows, a long-barrelled rifle in her hands.  The ABB had
interrupted her in the middle of the best sex she had had in years.  Someone
was going to die.
 
Darkness billowed; Grue came sidling out from between two carriages.  Taylor
grabbed his arm; he spun around, fist cocked, then paused as he saw who it was.
 
“Lisa sent us,” she told him, her voice hollow in his darkness. “We’re here to
help.”
 
He nodded.  “Can you get me back to the others?”
 
Taylor focused on the location of the other Undersiders, and Pathfinder went
there.
 
It was bad.
 
Bitch’s dogs were backed up into a small enclosure between several carriages;
they were injured, limping, burned.  Regent was sprawled across one, face grey,
hanging on for dear life.  Bitch was hanging on to another, blood running down
her leg.
 
Lung loomed in the gap between two of the carriages.  The dogs snarled, defiant
to the end.  The metal-clad cape inhaled deeply –
 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose appeared between the dogs. Grue slapped one. 
Compass Rose slapped another.  And Pathfinder slapped the third.
 
A ravening blast of fire roared through the cloud of purple-brown smoke, and
killed nothing except the train carriage behind them.
 
***
 
They appeared on the street outside the Undersiders’ base; it was ruined,
shattered, but at least there were no hostiles waiting for them.
 
Bitch looked around, startled and hostile.  The dogs turned, snarling.
 
“Hey, they saved us!” shouted Grue.
 
Bitch snapped a command; the dogs quieted.
 
“What now?” asked Grue.
 
“Take care of your wounded,” said Pathfinder.  “We’ll be back.”
 
Taylor looked at him; he looked back, nodded.  We have to finish this.
 
Purple smoke puffed in his hand, and he handed her the small pistol she had
used before.  He didn’t bother with one for himself.
 
They went again.
 
***
 
Miss Militia had found herself an eyrie, and was sniping ABB thugs as fast as
they showed themselves.  However, Oni Lee had also spotted her.
 
He appeared behind her; she turned fast, a Glock in her hand, already firing. 
He dropped a grenade, puffed to ash.  She stared at the grenade.
 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose appeared in their trademark billow of smoke,
grabbed her, vanished again.  The grenade went off.
 
***
 
“Oni Lee,” said Pathfinder.
 
“Oni Lee,” agreed Compass Rose.
 
His location flickered, but she found she could keep up with it.  She started
feeding data to Danny.  They disappeared, reappeared. Oni Lee was just
crumbling to ash. Teleported again.  She snapped a shot.  Again.  She fired
another shot.
 
On the seventh attempt, when he teleported, the wound stayed with him. 
 
They pursued the increasingly-panicked Oni Lee around the Trainyards, until he
made the mistake of trying to ambush them.  He appeared right behind them; she
pointed the gun backward without even looking, and shot him in the face.
 
He fell, and did not disappear, did not crumble to ash.
 
***
 
Lung searched for the Undersiders, tearing train carriages aside like cardboard
boxes.  He roared his frustration to the skies.
 
They appeared on top of a miraculously undamaged carriage, not far away.
 
“Lung!” shouted Pathfinder.  “Stand down!  Last chance!”
 
He roared, spread metal wings, launched toward them.
 
They puffed to nothingness.
 
He shredded the carriage anyway.
 
A locomotive landed on him; two hundred and fifty tonnes of shaped steel.  The
impact smashed him down, drove him waist-deep into the ground.
 
He heaved up from under it.  “This won’t hurt me!” he roared.  “Nothing will
hurt me!  I’m LUNG, motherfuckers!”
 
“That wasn’t meant to hurt you!” called Pathfinder.  “Just to keep you in one
place, just long enough!” They vanished.
 
Lung cursed, swore, raged.  He tore a the wreckage pinning him down.  Threw
aside the last part of the locomotive.
 
“Fuck you!” he roared.  “I’ll find you!  I’ll ...”
 
He looked up.
 
“Oh fuck.”
 
***
 
The freighter Warden Point was rated at fifty thousand dead weight tonnes; it
had not been fully loaded for decades, and for the last ten years had slowly
been sinking at its moorings in the Boat Graveyard.  Its canted deck was now
only five feet above the water on one side, and fifteen on the other.
 
From across the Boat Graveyard, two figures appeared, first on the deck of one
ship, then on another.  They skipped across the intervening distances so fast
that there were three or four puffs of purple-brown smoke marking their path.
 
There were no words, barely any thought processes.  Taylor was multitasking at
an extreme rate, taking in the sizes and relative structural strengths of each
of the ships she could see, all at once.  No ... no ... no ...no.

They landed on the deck of the Warden Point.
 
Yes.
 
The Warden Point had no working engines; these, and the relevant controls, had
been salvaged and/or scavenged years ago.  It had been thought she would never
move again.
 
She moved.
 
A massive billow of purple-brown smoke, and she was gone.
 
With a tremendous crashing and banging of disturbed ship hulls, over fifty
thousand tonnes of water rushed in to fill the gap.
 
***
 
A tremendous billow of purple-brown smoke filled the sky.
 
The Warden Point fell out of it.
 
Lung had no idea what it was, save that it was immense, and that it was falling
toward him.
 
He tried desperately to get out of the way, spread his wings to fly.
 
He didn’t make it.
 
It landed on him.
 
The rusted metal burst; stagnant seawater spread everywhere. Lung’s fire was
extinguished, his metal-covered body crushed into the ground.  The sheer force
was more than he could withstand.
 
***
 
Transports whined through the air, came in for a landing. Director Piggot got
out, stomped up to Pathfinder, went to shake a finger in his face, then turned.
 
“What,” she asked faintly, “is a ship doing in the Trainyards?”
 
“Lung’s under it,” Pathfinder said, as if that explained everything.
 
Piggot paused.  “... right,” she said.  “Is he still alive?”
 
Compass Rose nodded.  “Yes,” she said, “but I think he might be drowning.”
 
Pathfinder nodded; he and Compass Rose disappeared, reappeared on the buckled
deck of the Warden Point.  And then it disappeared again.
 
***
 
It reappeared in the air two dozen feet above its old mooring point.  The
inrush of water had drawn several hulls into that space.  Taylor was fully
aware of that, but she had nowhere else to put the ship.  They disappeared
again.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and they reappeared beside Director Piggot.  “Down
there,” Compass Rose said, pointing.
 
There was a very distant sound, like an explosion.  Or like the damaged hull of
a ship had just fallen into the water on top of other ships.
 
PRT troops advanced.  Shortly, they returned, dragging the very unconscious
body of Lung, now back to his normal human form.
 
“Oni Lee?” asked Director Piggot.
 
Compass Rose shrugged slightly.  “He was ... too much of a danger.”  She
pointed.  “He’s over there somewhere.”
 
“And Miss Militia?”
 
Compass Rose pointed.  “Over there.  Rounding up the last of the ABB
survivors.”
 
Director Piggot nodded.  “Well, I have to admit it.  You two have done it
again.”
 
“And Insight,” said Compass Rose.  “Don’t forget Insight.”
 
“I wish I could forget that girl,” sighed the Director.  “She’s invaluable, and
she knows it, so she’s also about the most irritating ...”
 
“Where is she, anyway?” asked Pathfinder. “I’m surprised she isn’t here.”
 
Compass Rose blinked.  “Ah,” she said.
 
“Ah?” asked Director Piggot.
 
***
 
The PRT transport came in for an unconventional landing near the group of
Undersiders; Grue was doing his best to keep pressure on Regent’s hip wound,
but he didn’t like the rate at which his teammate was losing blood.
 
Bitch, despite her leg wound, was on her feet, her dogs growling at the new
arrival.
 
And then an unfamiliar figure swung down from the cockpit. “Guys!” she called,
the voice very familiar.  “Come on!  Let’s go!”
 
“Where to?” asked Grue warily.
 
“The PRT, of course!” she called back.  “Come on!  I only borrowed this for a
little while, so I need to have it back before they realise it’s gone!”
 
Grue felt a grin spreading across his face, under his mask. “You stole it?” he
asked disbelievingly.
 
“Stole, borrowed, whatever,” Lisa retorted, moving forward to help with Regent.
 
***
 
“We’ll be right back,” said Compass Rose.  She squeezed Pathfinder’s hand. 
“Let’s go.”
 
They went.
 
Director Piggot opened her mouth to ask where they were going, but found
herself looking at a puff of purple-brown smoke.
 
She sighed.  At least they get results.
 
Then she looked at the devastation in the Trainyards.
 
Dropped a ship on him.  Holy Christ.
 
***
 
Brian and Lisa were halfway to the transport with Alec when Compass Rose and
Pathfinder appeared nearby. 
 
“You’re almost out of time,” said Compass Rose.  “We need to get this thing,
and you, back to the PRT as soon as possible, before Director Piggot starts
asking questions.”
 
Lisa’s face lit up.  “Oh, thank you,” she grinned.  She looked at the two of
them.  “Lung’s down?”
 
Pathfinder nodded, took Grue’s arm.  Smoke billowed; they reappeared inside the
transport.  Grue helped Regent on to a bench.  Bitch limped up; Compass Rose
offered her hand to help her up.  Bitch stared at her for a moment, then
accepted the help.  The dogs, none the worse for wear, leaped up as well.
 
Compass Rose and Pathfinder clasped hands; the transport puffed into purple-
brown smoke, reappeared in the PRT transport bay.
 
From there, they went directly to the infirmary.  Fortunately, the informary
staff had been warned to expect casualties.  They just weren’t expecting
supervillains.
 
The presence of Compass Rose and Pathfinder smoothed things down a lot, and
Regent and Bitch were soon undergoing treatment.
 
Danny drew Taylor aside, and said quietly, “Why didn’t we just take them to
Panacea?”
 
Taylor grinned.  “She’s uh .... busy.”
 
Her link with him filled in the gaps.  His eyebrows raised.  “Well,” he said. 
“Well, well, well.”
 
***
 
Director Piggot stomped into the infirmary, her expression thunderous.  “Can
someone please explain to me why three supervillains are getting priority
treatment in the PRT sickbay?” she demanded.
 
“Because they’re joining the Protectorate,” declared Insight.
 
Four sets of eyes swung to lock on her.  
 
“What?’ demanded Piggot.
 
“Fucking what?” echoed Grue, with rather more emphasis.
 
“You’re shitting me!” chimed in Regent, from where medics were working on his
hip.
 
Bitch didn’t even bother talking.
 
“It’s like this,” said Insight.  “Three of you.  That’s barely a superteam at
all.  More of a duo with a plus one.  The ABB hit you hard, nearly killed you. 
Who’s going to hit you next?  Empire Eighty-Eight?  Your best bet is to join
the biggest, baddest team on the block.  And that’s right here, in the
Protectorate building.”
 
She turned to the seething Director.  “Grue knows his stuff.  So does Regent. 
And Bitch is amazing with dogs.  Tell me you can’t make use of them.”  She
grinned her vulpine grin.  “Go on, tell me you haven’t done exactly this before
now anyway.”
 
Piggot shook her head.  “Christ.”  She turned and stomped away.  “We’ll talk
about this later,” she said.
 
Lisa turned to the others with a beaming smile.  “If you accept ... you’re in,”
she said.
 
And no-one said no, then or later.
 
***
 
“So there’s no-one home?” asked Vicky as they glided in for a landing.
 
“Nope,” grinned Amy.  “I asked Dad what they’d be doing.  They’re going to a
show.  It doesn’t finish till nearly eleven.”
 
“Ooooh,” said Vicky, her tone suggestive.
 
Amy nodded.  “Oh, yes,” she agreed.
 
Vicky unlocked the door and they went inside.  Amy closed the door, and then
turned to her sister. “Thank you for a wonderful date,” she said, and took
Vicky in her arms.  Vicky embraced her, and their lips met.
 
The kiss was long and passionate; their lips pressed hard against each other,
and their tongues met and duelled in between.  Amy felt her sister’s hands
squeezing and caressing her buttocks as the kiss went on.  She did not object.
 
When they finally broke apart, Vicky was breathing heavily. So was Amy.
 
“Please ...” said Vicky.  Her voice was imploring.
 
Amy smiled.  “I’ll meet you in your room,” she said softly.  “Be wearing
something sexy.”
 
Vicky rarely flew inside the house.  As she disappeared up the stairs, Amy
fancied she heard a small sonic boom.
 
Amy made her way to her room, and there she took from her closet something she
had gotten some time ago.  It had been saved for a very special occasion.  That
occasion was now.
 
Slowly, she removed her clothing.  Donned the special dress.  Exited her room.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and Pathfinder and Miss Militia reappeared in the
bedroom of Danny’s house.
 
Slowly, carefully, they began to undress one another.  When Miss Militia
removed something, it fell to the floor.  When Pathfinder removed something, it
vanished into smoke, to reappear (as she would find later) on her bed, back in
her quarters.
 
When his face was free, and hers as well, they kissed.  It was the kiss of
experienced lovers; slow and langorous, tender and loving, deep and
passionate.  It was a kiss that promised the world, and quite often delivered.
 
“If anything else happens tonight ...” he breathed.
 
A large pistol was in her hand.  “I will shoot it right in the head,” she
promised.  The gun became a small knife, in a wrist sheath.
 
She removed his coat; he removed her jacket.  She unfastened his costume top;
he let it fall to the ground, and removed her camouflage shirt.  His undershirt
went over his head.  Her T-shirt disappeared in a puff of smoke.
 
They kissed again, arms around one another, bare skin to bare skin.  She felt
his erection through his pants; he felt her arousal in the quickening of her
breath.
 
The rest of their clothing disappeared quite rapidly.
 
***
 
Compass Rose and Kid Win stood in his quarters, facing each other. She removed
her helmet; he did he same with his.  She leaned in and kissed him, standing on
tiptoe.
 
“Can we ...” he said tentatively, “ ... keep doing what we were just doing
before?”
 
She smiled, and undid the fastenings of her top.
 
He gulped, and began to remove his armour.
 
***
 
Vicky lounged on her bed, wearing  the tiniest, naughtiest micro-bikini that
she could find.  Her parents would have had a collective fit if she had even
hinted at wearing it outside.  But for something like this ... it was perfect.
 
She looked up as Amy opened the door and entered her room. Closed the door
gently behind her.
 
She was wearing soft white lace, draped arond her body, not quite hiding her
charms.  Her breasts pressed against it, the nipples engorged, the aureoles
dark. 

Looking at Vicky lounging on the bed, as near to naked as she could be while
wearing three small scraps of cloth, her breath caught in her throat.  She
sowanted Vicky.
 
“Vicky ...” she said softly.  “Tonight ... I am yours.”
 
She took a step forward, and shrugged the dress off her shoulders.  With a
silken whisper, it slid to the floor, a puddle of lace at her feet.  Under it,
she wore the sheerest, most transparent panties that Vicky had ever seen.
 
Victoria Dallon swallowed.  Amy was the most beautiful woman she had ever
seen.  She reached out her hand; Amy took it.  She helped her sister climb on
to the bed.
 
Body pressed against body, flesh pressed against flesh. Victoria kissed Amy,
her lips urgent, demanding.  Amy returned her kisses, desire for desire.  Her
fingers found the strings depending from Vicky’s micro-bikini, tugged at them.
They fell away.
 
Amy lowered her mouth to Victoria’s nipples, as she had done before. Vicky
sighed, her head falling back, as her sister’s talented tongue and lips went to
work.  First one nipple, then the other, was excited almost beyond endurance. 
And then Amy’s lips and tongue and teeth made their delicate, exciting,
wonderful way down, over Vicky’s firm stomach, briefly teasing her navel, then
proceeding onward.
 
Vicky was still covered, there, by a mere scrap of cloth, bound by loose
knots.  Amy caught the cord in her teeth, opened the knots.  The bikini bottom
fell away, exposing all of Victoria Dallon to her sister’s urgent needs.
 
Vicky arched her back and cried out as Amy tasted her soft, arousal-slick pussy
for the first time.  Amy’s tongue touched here, touched there, flickered at her
engorged clitoris, delved between her swollen labia.  She drank her sister’s
copious juices, burrowed her face into the soft, pulsating flesh, drove her
tongue as far as she could into Victoria Dallon’s vaginal canal.
 
She attached and ravished her sister’s delicate tissues with her lips, her
tongue and her teeth.  Vicky, driven almost insane by the attentions, arched
her back, and then climaxed as Amy nibbled at her clitoris, running her lips
and tongue over the tiny, sensitive nub of flesh.
 
Amy kept at her, driving her ever harder, forcing her to greater and greater
heights of orgasmic pleasure, finally crawling back up her body as she went
through one last climax, kissing and licking her nipples and then kissing her
sister on the lips as she rubbed her own streaming crotch against her sister’s.
 
Vicky, panting as though she had just run a marathon, stared up at Amy, tasting
her own juices on her lips from the kiss.
 
“Oh ... my ... god,” she whispered.  
 
Amy kissed her again.  “Your turn,” she breathed in reply.
 
Amy suddenly found herself pinned to the bed.  She stared up at Vicky, eyes
wide, a tremendous arousal spreading through her body.
 
“Oh,” she exclaimed.  “What are you going to do with me?”
 
Vicky kissed her hard, leaving her breathless.
 
“Everything,” she promised.
 
Amy’s eyes glowed.  “Oh,” she replied softly.  “Yes, please.”
 
***
 
Danny and Hannah lay on the bed, caressing each other’s faces, each others’
bodies.  She reached down, stroked him, grasped his length.  He reached down,
caressed her sex, parted her labia.  She gasped as a finger slid into her.
 
“Yes ...” she moaned softly.  “Yes ...”
 
He guided her on to her back, kissed her lips; she kissed him back fiercely. 
He poised above her; she gasped and moaned as he guided the head of his
throbbing erection up and down between her swollen labia, pushing against her
clitoris.
 
And then, slowly, ever so slowly, he began to slide into her.
 
She dug her nails into his back as he teased her, kissed her, slid into her,
his long penis finding its home between her soft, distended nether lips.
 
At last, he was all the way inside her, their pubic hair meshing, and she
gasped at the very sensation.  And then he began to move his hips again.
 
She moaned and called out his name as he began to pump his hips, stroking into
her, faster and faster.  The arousal which he had  deliberately kept at a high
simmer exploded within her, and she came, violently, clenching around him,
screaming his name.
 
He drove into her, again and again, his cock ramming home inside her slippery
wetness, giving her his all with a tender roughness that drove her wild,
setting off one orgasm after another.
 
They rolled over; she rose to a sitting position and continued to work her
hips.  He caressed her breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipples, while she
rubbed at her clitoris.  Another orgasm blasted through her, and another.  She
clenched around him again and again, and still he held her hips and thrust up
into her.
 
He was just as aroused as she was, but he had been spoiled by his link with
Taylor; whereas their shared pleasure could drive them both to orgasm
relatively quickly, he was only feeling his side of the pleasure with Hannah,
and although it was incredibly arousing, it was taking him much longer to reach
his own climax.
 
Which was all to the good for Hannah.  He made love to her from on top, then
from underneath, driving her into one series of orgasmic rushes after another. 
It was only when they were doing doggy-style, his hands on her breasts, and his
penis pumping between her exposed labia from behind, that he finally cried out,
and pulled her hard on to him.  She felt him come inside her then, and climaxed
herself as his cock spurted jet after jet of hot white seed deep into her body.
 
They lay together afterward, holding one another, kissing gently.
 
“Thank you, Danny,” murmured Hannah.  “Taylor is very lucky.”
 
He kissed her back.  “So am I,” he agreed.  “So am I.”
 
She slid down the bed, to where his penis was starting to show signs of
interest once more.  She looked once up at him, wickedly, before lowering her
mouth to engulf it, to draw it between her lips.
 
He caught his breath as she began sucking him back to erection.
 
This was looking like a very long night indeed.
 
And he didn’t mind in the slightest.
 
***
 
Amy lay back, naked except for the tiny, transparent panties, and struggled
uselessly.  She had no idea where Victoria had gotten the pink fluffy handcuffs
from, but it was quite an exciting experience to be unable to pull free from
them.
 
And then Vicky turned around from where she stood at the wardrobe, and she bore
strapped to her hips a realistic flesh-coloured plastic erection.
 
She swallowed.  When Vicky had said she’d do everything to Amy, it did not seem
that she was exaggerating.
 
She looked forward eagerly to every moment.
 
***
 
By the time the last of Chris’s armour pieces clunked to the floor, Taylor was
reclining on the bed, wearing just tiny lace panties.  He climbed on to the bed
beside her; she kissed him.  He put his arms around her; she reciprocated.  
 
They kissed for a while longer, then he began to fondle her breasts.  She made
an approving noise, and reached down to rub his growing erection through his
boxers.
 
Gently but firmly, she pushed him back on to the bed.  He gasped as she trailed
her lips down his chest and stomach, and then kissed his erection through the
thin cloth covering it.
 
Grasping his boxers, she tugged them downward; he lifted his ass off the bed to
help her along.  Once he had kicked them off, she bent over his rising penis. 
He gasped again as she rubbed her firm breasts over the turgid flesh; it jerked
as she touched it, jumping against her sensitive skin.
 
And then she lowered her mouth to him.  He moaned as her lips engulfed him, her
tongue flicking at his very tip, then swirling around him, as she lowered her
mouth down his shaft.
 
He arched his back, his eyes tight shut, as sensations exploded in his mind. 
Whimpers of words, fragments, escaped from his throat, as she suckled and
licked and nibbled at his erection.
 
And then he cried out as he exploded, his penis jerking in her mouth, spurting
wad after wad of hot semen into her throat.  She swallowed it, sucking it from
his pulsing cock, making his eyes cross from the intensity of his orgasm.
 
He lay back on the bed, panting, looking down as she raised her mouth from his
deflating member.  She licked a pearly drop from one corner of her mouth; he
thought that he had never seen such an erotic action.
 
“Now,” she breathed, “you can do the same for me.”
 
She lay back languidly on the bed, as he got up above her. Tentatively, he
leaned down and kissed her.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed
him back, quite firmly.  He got the message, and kissed her in the same manner;
their tongues meshed and slid around one another, rather sensuously.
 
From there he went to her breasts; he had already had experience at making
Taylor feel good with his mouth there, and he wanted to do it again. She gasped
as his lips found her nipple, and then she moaned as he sucked her quite hard,
nibbling at her with his teeth.
 
“Oh yes,” she murmured.  “Like that.  Oh god, like that.”
 
Thus encouraged, he drew her other nipple into his mouth, nibbling at it,
before letting it slide from his lips, his teeth scraping at it along the way. 
She arched her back and moaned.
 
He kissed his way down her stomach to where her thighs lay open for him; her
flimsy panties were the only barrier to his urges.  She let him remove them,
and then her soft, tender labia were exposed to his view.
 
She felt him touch her with his tongue, and it sent a thrill of pleasure
through her.  She lifted her hips, presenting her arousal-slick vagina towards
him.  He did it again, tasting her, and then again and again.
 
He explored her sex carefully and thoroughly, driving her to the very heights
of pleasure.  Where she cried out most and loudest, he returned, his tongue
gaining experience and expertise as he went.  When he finally drove her into
orgasm, she arched her back and screamed his name. He tasted her juices as they
spattered his face.
 
He kept doing what he was doing; she came again and again.
 
And then she reached down and grabbed his hand, tugging him upward. He left her
throbbing sex, still tingling from the last orgasm, and crawled up over her
body.  She kissed him, tasting her juices, enjoying the sensation.
 
“Make love to me,” she breathed.  “Put it in me and make love to me.”
 
He gulped, realising that he was now throbbingly hard once more. He felt her
reach down and guide him to her tender, soft vaginal opening, where he had so
recently driven his tongue, and he pushed his hips forward, pressing inward.
 
She moaned as he penetrated her, deeper and deeper.  His eyes widened as he
felt the hot tight wetness enfold his penis, so much more than any mouth could
do.  He slid into her, deeper and deeper, until his belly met hers, and she
kissed him.
 
“Oh god yes,” she whispered.  “It feels so good.  Do it. Do it now.”
 
Slowly, but with increasing rapidity, he began to pump in and out of her; she
kissed him, and caressed him, and whispered encouragement. Her voice rose as he
thrust harder and harder into her; she pushed back at him, her voice now
incoherent moans of ecstasy.  
 
The pleasure was intense; he thrust into her, kissed her, pumped his hips
faster and faster.  She dug her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around
his hips. And then he exploded for a second time, this time inside her; a
moment later, while he was still thrusting, still coming, still spurting jets
of cum inside her, she came in her turn.
 
As her orgasms with Danny went, it was fairly tame, but it was still a very
substantial one; she remained lucid and aware all the way through it, which was
an interesting experience for her.  She kissed him again and again, lifting her
hips to meet his final strokes.
 
She kissed him as they lay side by side, caressing one another’s bodies.
 
“Taylor ...” he whispered.  She put a finger to his lips.
 
“Don’t say anything to spoil it,” she murmured.  “Tonight is for tonight.  It
may happen again – I rather like you – but it’s nothing more than a sharing of
pleasure.”  She grinned.  “Now, I notice that you seem to be getting interested
again.”  She stroked his length, rapidly hardening.  “Have you ever heard of
the cowgirl position?”
 
It turned out that he had not.  But he was a fast learner.
 
***
 
Vicky leaned over her sister, luscious breasts dangling temptingly, just out of
the reach of her lips.
 
“Do you want to suck my nipples?” she breathed.
 
“Oh, yes,” moaned Amy.  “Please, let me.”
 
Vicky smiled, let her breasts lower until Amy’s lips closed over her nipple,
began sucking.  She caught her breath as Amy’s teeth scraped the turgid flesh,
sendng shivers of pleasure through her body.
 
“Do you want me to touch your breasts?” she murmured.
 
Amy squirmed, her excitement growing.  “Please,” she whimpered.
 
Vicky squeezed her breast, flicked a nipple.  Amy cried out.
 
“Do you want me to do that again?” asked Victoria, licking her lips.
 
Amy nodded, dumbly.
 
Vicky shook her head.  “You have to ask.”
 
“Please, do that again.  Squeeze my breast, flick my nipple.”  Amy’s voice was
a broken moan.
 
Victoria did it again; she squeezed Amy’s breast to the point of pain, and she
flicked her nipple quite hard.  Amy arched her back and cried out.
 
“Did you like that?” asked Vicky softly.
 
Amy nodded.  “Oh god yes.”
 
Vicky lowered her mouth to Amy’s breasts, and sucked and nipped them quite
hard; Amy sobbed with the pleasure, arching her back to push her breasts toward
Vicky’s cruel pleasures.
 
Vicky trailed her way to Amy’s soft, virginal sex.  She took hold of the
panties and simply ripped them away; Amy gasped, more aroused than ever.
 
She gasped again as Vicky trailed two fingers up between her swollen labia, to
rub at her clitoris, and then back down again, inserting one so slowly and
teasingly inside her that she nearly came on the spot.
 
“I think you’re a very naughty girl,” Victoria purred. “Seducing your sister
like this. I think you need to be punished. Do you want me to punish you?”
 
Amy nodded, her voice nothing but whimpers of arousal now.
 
Victoria felt her own arousal mounting.  She had never thought of her sister in
a sexual manner until the first time they had kissed, and now ... she had so
much she wanted to do with her. To her.
 
She reached up and pressed the catches to undo the handcuffs, rolled Amy over. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she lifted and placed Amy across her lap, face
down. Reaching down, she caressed and squeezed Amy’s breasts, making her sister
squirm and moan from the pain and the pleasure.
 
And then she began to slap Amy’s bare ass.
 
Amy felt pure arousal, being in her sister’s power, for Vicky’s perverted
pleasures.  The pain at having her breast squeezed so hard was turning her on,
making her want to submit more and more.  And then Vicky began to spank her. 
Each slap was an explosion of pain that turned into a universe of pleasure.
 
Amy cried out, over and over, as the slaps landed on her steadily reddening
buttocks.  She writhed on Vicky’s lap; Vicky could feel her flowing juices
trickling over her thigh.
 
After twenty hard slaps, she lifted her sister up and kissed her; Amy responded
avidly.
 
Vicky smiled, and laid Amy back on the bed.  Then she got up, and poised above
her; the plastic penis slid up and down between Amy’s swollen labia, coated
itself with her juices. Amy arched her back and moaned at the sensation.
 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Vicky penetrated her sister’s vaginal canal with the
thick dildo.  Amy gasped and cried out, and clutched at Vicky, as inch after
inch slid into her. “Oh god,” she moaned.  “Oh god, Vicky, oh god.”
 
And then Vicky began to drive it in and out of her, harder and harder.  She
kissed her sister, quite hard, and that was when Amy came for the first time.
 
Amy felt the dildo pumping deep into her slippery wetness, over and over again,
harder and harder, deeper and deeper.  She climaxed again and again as her
sister took her virginity with calculated roughness, driving her wild with
arousal.
 
Vicky screwed her sister into the mattress, thrusting the plastic cock hard
into her, feeling her own arousal peak as she forced Amy into one orgasm after
another.
 
***
 
Amy and Vicky lay side by side, entwined, naked.  They kissed each other
tenderly, lovingly. Vicky smiled at Amy, caressing her breasts gently.
 
“How’s your butt?” she asked softly.
 
“Sore,” admitted Amy.  “But a good kind of sore.”
 
“And your pussy?”
 
Amy stretched.  “Mmmmm,” she murmured.  “That’s real good.”
 
Vicky grinned.  “Would you like to use the dildo on me next?”
 
Amy giggled.  “Oh, yeah ...”
 
They kissed and caressed each other again.
 
They had all the time in the world.
***** Wake Up and Join the Party *****
Chapter Summary
     Taylor and Danny get wake-up sex, while Amy and Vicky do not. The
     Undersiders are vetted for joining the Wards, and Aisha turns up
     late.
Taylor roused from sleep to feel the hand tracing the lines of her hip.  She
smiled and rolled over, recalling halfway whose hand it must be.  The hand slid
across her flat belly and over her waist on to her back, as she came face to
face with the owner of said hand.
 
"Good morning, Chris,," she murmured, bestowing a kiss on the lips of the young
man whose bed she was currently sharing.
 
"Good morning, Taylor," he responded, sliding his hand up her back and pulling
her closer to him.  In no way averse to this, she slid her arms around him and
kissed him again.
 
"So," she said softly, holding his naked body next to hers, "did we have a good
night last night?". And if you say no, I'll call you a damn liar, she thought
with amusement.
 
He kissed her in his turn, holding her close.  "Oh god yes," he breathed
fervently.  "What you did ... What we did ..."
 
What she had dine with him was fairly straightforward as far as sex went -
leaving out anal, as that was something she chose to reserve for Danny - but
for a young man new to sex, they may as well have been researching
groundbreaking new chapters for the Kama Sutra.  Even now, he had a slightly
dazed look in his eye as he recalled what they had done together. 
 
He looked at her, eyes suddenly anxious.  "Was it ... I mean, was I ... did I
...?"
 
She giggled and kissed him.  "Relax, you did just fine.  I had a really good
time.". And she had.  He could not measure up to Danny in experience or sheer
ability to pleasure her, but she was not yet so spoiled that she could not
enjoy herself immensely in bed with a sweet boy like Chris.  And he had learned
how to pleasure her with gratifying rapidity.
 
"Oh," he said, with evident relief.  "So can we ...?"
 
"Do it again?". She smiled and kissed him.  "Right now?  Sure.  Later?  Maybe. 
It will depend on what's going on."
 
"Oh," he said, in a tone of voice that told her that he had meant 'later' more
than 'right now'.  "I was thinking ... you and me ..."
 
She shook her head gently.  "Chris," she said softly, "This was always just a
date, a fun date with a really enjoyable ending, but still just a date. 
Sharing our bodies, sharing pleasure, nothing more.  No promises, no strings.".
She kissed him again.  "But I am glad I could make your first time as enjoyable
as I could."
 
"Oh god," he said, holding her close, "If it had been any better, I don't think
I would have survived the night."
 
She giggled and caressed his body, reaching down and stroking his rapidly-
hardening manhood.  "Well, if you're up to it," she murmured, "we can go again
before i's time to get up."
 
He didn't answer her verbally, but his hands began to fondle her in all the
places she had taught him that she liked to be touched.  His lips found hers,
and he kissed her with rather more passion than before, and rather more skill
than the previous evening.  She felt her body awakening to his touch,
responding to his urges.  Lying back, she let her thighs fall open; he began to
move down her body, kissing and licking as he went.
 
As he reached the centre of her sex, began to pleasure her in every way she had
taught him, she relaxed and let the pleasure wash through her.
 
She was quite gratified; he really had been paying attention.
 
***
 
Hannah rested her weight on one elbow and gazed tenderly down at Danny's
sleeping face.  He was a kind man, a sweet man; a gentle man, even.  But he
could also be rough when it was needed, forceful when desired.  She shifted,
feeling the tenderness where he had brought that roughness to bear.  But it was
a good tenderness, a tenderness well-earned and thoroughly enjoyed.
 
This was a night among nights, she told herself, reaching out to caress his
cheek, smoothing his care-lines with her thumb.  I could easily fall in love
with a man like this.  But he has his Taylor.  And she knew that he could never
compete with that bond.
 
He stirred, eyes opening, focusing on her.  He smiled.  She smiled back.
 
"Good morning, Danny," she said quietly.  "How are you feeling?"
 
He grinned.  "Like I've just made love all night with a beautiful woman, and
she's still here in the morning.". He leaned up and kissed her softly and
tenderly on the lips.  "How are you feeling, Hannah?"
 
She returned his kiss, and held him close to her.  "Satisfied," she purred. 
"So very very satisfied."
 
"Good," he said.  "I'm glad.". He nibbled her neck; her breath hitched in her
throat.
 
"Danny," she said, her voice going up a notch as he began to work at pleasuring
her with fingers and lips and tongue, "if you wanted to bring Taylor into bed
with us, I would not object."
 
He paused, looking at her.  "I didn't know you were ..." he began.
 
"Lesbian?" she filled in.  "Bisexual?  No and no, Danny.  But I can learn.  And
I would certainly learn to pleasure a woman, to pleasure Taylor, if it meant
spending mote time in bed with you."
 
He stopped what he was doing and kissed her, softly and tenderly.  "I'm sorry,"
he said, his voice full of genuine regret.  "I would love to do that, love to
try it.  But I can't see it working."
 
"But why not?" she asked curiously.  "Is Taylor so jealous?  I can't see that
in her."
 
He grinned and shook his head.  "God, no.  She really likes you too.  She'd
never object in a million years.". He drew a deep breath.  "It's me and Taylor
together.  It's our bond, our powers.  When we're making love, she feels my
pleasure, and I feel hers.  So we could have you in bed with us, but we'd
probably be getting so much more out of doing stuff with each other that you
would feel left out."
 
She frowned.  “So … what we did last night, if it is not as good as what you
have with Taylor …”
 
He shook his head.  “That’s not it,” he explained.  “I took you to bed because
I like you, and I admire you, and I want to make you feel good, and …”  He
leaned in and kissed her.  “I had a whole lot of fun last night, and that was
before we even dropped the ship on Lung.  Being with you, watching you move in
that little black dress.  Dancing with you.”  
 
His lips began to work their way down her neck, on to her breast.  She gasped
as he found the nipple, then he continued.  “Even making love with you; it’s
nice having a partner who can go with your every impulse, but it’s also nice to
have someone I can surprise.”  
 
To illustrate, he suddenly sucked her nipple into his mouth; she gasped from
the sensation.  Letting the nipple escape, he looked back up at her.  “And I
don’t know what you’re about to do; it’s a bit of a turn-on.”
 
“Hmmm,” she murmured, running her hand over his chest, then down his belly to
where his penis was beginning to become quite erect.  He gasped as she took him
in hand.  Her lips met his again, demanding, aggressive.
 
She pushed him on to his back, hard, forcefully.  He gasped as she straddled
him.  “So tell me,” she said softly, “how you like this.”
 
Sliding his glans up and down between her already-slick labia, she placed it at
the entrance to her vagina, and bore down.  He slid into her, inch by exciting
inch, and he groaned as he felt her hot wetness engulf him.
 
And then she began to move her hips; hard and fast, up and down, impaling
herself on his rigid shaft over and over again.
 
His eyes opened wide, and he struggled feebly against her refreshed grip,
holding his wrists to the bed.  She forced herself down on him, clamping her
already-tight vaginal canal around his pumping erection; he thrust his hips
upward to meet her strokes.
 
Their pelvises came together with smacking impacts, almost painful, as they
strove together.  She rocked her hips back and forth, making his penis drag
against the inside of her vagina, exciting the both of them even more.
 
She came first, but only just, crying out his name as she drove herself down on
his intruding erection.  He archd his back, feeling himself explode inside her,
blasting jet after jet of hot white semen deep within her belly.
 
Leaning down, she kissed him, more gently, more lovingly.
 
“Oh god,” he gasped.  “That was amazing.”
 
“Now do you think we could do a threesome?” she asked, a touch smugly.
 
He grinned up at her.  “I think we can work something out,” he said. 
 
She snuggled alongside him as his erection slowly slid out of her.  “I love a
man who can listen to reason.”
 
***
 
Amy drifted slowly to the surface of her consciousness, memory returning
slowly.  She opened her eyes, saw the sleeping face of her sister, not six
inches from her own.
 
Shifting slightly, she realised that she was naked, and that she was embracing
her sister, who was in a similar condition.  And then recollection returned.
 
Last night … she and Vicky had … oh my god.
 
We did it.  We really did it.  Over and over again.  Oh my god.
They had taken each other in ways that would have shocked Amy, days before. 
Her vagina and ass were tender, as were her breasts and buttocks.  It turned
out that, once Vicky was in the mood, she had quite the imagination.  Or maybe
she just had some issues that needed working out.
 
Not that Amy had protested.  Far from it; she had participated,
enthusiastically.
 
I might just need a couple of days to recover, is all.  Wow.
 
And then the sharp knock on the door.  Her mother’s voice.  “Victoria! 
Breakfast is ready!”
 
Vicky jolted awake, stared into Amy’s eyes.  Amy saw memory returning, could
almost hear the click as Vicky lined up her recollections and remembered what
they’d done the previous night.
 
She smiled, lazily.
 
“Be right down, Mom!” she called, then kissed Amy slowly, deliciously.  Amy
returned the kiss, enjoying every second of it.
 
“Think we’ve got time for a quick one before we go to breakfast?” she murmured
in Amy’s ear, caressing her butt.
 
Amy was tempted, but she shook her head.  “We take too much time, or worse,
make noise, and she won’t bother knocking next time.”  She didn’t need to add
the next bit.  We don’t want her catching us.
Vicky looked disappointed, but nodded.  “Okay.  But later …”  She kissed Amy
again, and squeezed her buttock.  Amy squirmed against her, wanting to stay and
continue.
 
Rolling out of bed, Vicky put on her usual sleepwear, with a bathrobe over the
top.  She tossed Amy more clothes, as well as a robe; while Vicky was taller,
they wore much the same sizes of clothes.
 
Which was fortunate, as Mark Dallon saw Amy emerge from Vicky’s room.
 
“Amy girl?” he said curiously.  “Why were you in there?”
 
Amy was stuck for an answer – should have thought of something ahead of
time, she berated herself – but Vicky spoke up.  “Ames had a nightmare.  Asked
if she could sleep in my bed.”  She shrugged.  “What could I do?”
 
Mark frowned.  “The nightmares coming back, Amy girl?”  They had been a not
uncommon occurrence in her earlier years with the Dallons.  Amy had slept in
Vicky’s bed then, too.
 
She shook her head, managing to look sheepish.  “No,” she said.  “I think this
was a once-off.”
 
He nodded.  “Good.”  A smile for Vicky.  “Thanks for taking care of your
sister.”
 
Vicky grinned.  “It was my pleasure, Dad.  I love her too much to let her have
nightmares all on her own.”
 
For a frozen moment, Amy thought Vicky might have overstepped the mark, been
just a bit too clever with her little play on words, but Mark nodded
judiciously.  “Good,” he said again, and headed downstairs.  Amy and Vicky
followed.
 
***
 
“I’ve called this conference,” said Director Piggot, “to determine the status
of the Undersiders, and to see which ones are willing and able to become part
of the Wards or the Protectorate proper.”
 
Around the table sat the Director, Armsmaster, Miss Militia, Pathfinder and
Compass Rose, Aegis, Insight, Grue and Bitch.  A wall-mounted screen showed a
view of Regent, still lying on a bed in the infirmary.  The medics had stated
that they didn’t want to move him until he was out of danger; in any case, he
had lost rather a lot of blood, and was weaker than they would have liked.
 
This had not stopped him from smarting off, of course.
 
“The way I see it,” said Insight, “the Undersiders are basically finished, as a
group.  Coil was the main reason we – they – were successful, and he’s in the
Cage.  I’m out – I never wanted to be in the group in the first place – and I’m
liking it where I am now.  You have two able-bodied members, one of whom has a
murder charge hanging over her head.”
 
“She deserved it,” muttered Bitch.  “Tried to drown my dog.”
 
“That’s as may be,” declared Director Piggot.  “Grue.  Your real name is …?”
 
“Brian Laborn,” replied the tall black youth in the motorcycle leathers.  “I’ve
got no trouble joining, but I’m going to need a favour.”
 
“We’re not in the business of giving out favours to criminals,” snapped
Armsmaster.
 
“Wait,” said Pathfinder.  “Suppose we find out what the favour is, first.”
 
Miss Militia nodded.  “Suppose we do.”  She looked toward Brian.  “Mr Laborn?”
 
Brian sighed.  “I have a sister.  Her name’s Aisha.  She’s living with my
mother and whatever her boyfriend of the week is like.  Mom’s a druggie, and
she attracts more of the same.  I want Aisha out of there – she’s only
thirteen.”
 
Taylor concentrated on the name ‘Aisha Laborn’ and she quickly formed a mental
image.  She took hold of Pathfinder’s hand under the table, and it went from a
still image to real-time action.
 
They stood at the same time, their chairs skidding backward.  Purple-brown
smoke billowed, and they were gone.
 
Silence fell on the room; Compass Rose’s chair tilted back and fell over. 
Everyone jumped, except Insight.
 
“The hell?” said Brian.  “Do they do that often?”
 
“Only if someone’s in trouble,” said Miss Militia and Insight simultaneously. 
They glanced at each other in mild surprise.
 
Brian came to his feet.  “Aisha!” he exclaimed, his face going grey with worry.
 
“Sit.  Down,” ordered Armsmaster.  “I won’t tell you twice.”
 
“Besides,” said Miss Militia, “they’re very effective.  They know what –“
 
Smoke billowed, and they reappeared beside the table.  Compass Rose had one arm
around a black girl in her early teens.  She was dressed, or almost so, in a
strapless top that would have served better as underwear, ripped denim shorts
and neon green fishnet leggings.
 
“Brian!” called the girl, pulling free of Compass Rose’s arm and running around
the table.  Compass Rose looked around for her chair, picked it up, and leaned
on it, apparently catching her breath.  Pathfinder pulled a handkerchief from a
puff of smoke, and seemed to be wiping blood from the knuckles of his gloves.
 
“Aisha!” replied Brian, and he met the girl halfway.  They hugged, fiercely.
 
“You got some badass friends, big bro,” said Aisha, not letting Brian go. 
“Beat the living goddamn shit out of Bradley.  Good thing, too.”  She began to
describe Bradley in terms which were both highly colourful and considerably
obscene.
 
“Enough!” shouted the Director, and for a wonder, Aisha shut up.  “What … is
going on here?”
 
Compass Rose looked around at her.  “This ‘Bradley’ was attempting to sexually
assault Aisha here.  He had her clothes half off when I saw them.  I had no
time to ask permission.  We went there.  Pathfinder explained to Bradley the
error of his ways, while I calmed down Aisha and then we brought her back.” 
She didn’t explain why she seemed out of breath.
 
“Fuckin’ explained the fuckin’ error of his ways, all right!” crowed Aisha. 
“Where can I get boots like that?  I wanna go back an’ kick the shit out of him
some more.”
 
Piggot leaned out and looked down at Pathfinder’s boots.  They appeared to be
stained with a variety of substances.  This might have been mud, or something
else.
 
Brian spoke up.  “Help me take care of Aisha and I’ll join.  Follow whatever
rules you want me to.”  He looked over at Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  “Thank
you.  I mean it.”
 
“We’re not a childcare agency –“ began Armsmaster.
 
“With all due respect, sir,” said Pathfinder.  “But you didn’t see that house. 
We did.  I wouldn’t have imprisoned Coil there.  Taking that girl out of that
place was the best thing that we could have done for her.”  He took a deep
breath.  “I’ll adopt her before I let her go back.”
 
Aisha stared at him.  “You’d do that?  For me?”  She looked around the table at
the others seated there, and then back at Brian.  “Wait one motherfuckin’
second, big bro.  Who are you joining again?  Because this looks awful like the
Protectorate, here.”
 
Brian nodded.  “And that’s who I’m joining, Aisha,” he said.  “They saved my
life, me and Rachel and Alec.  From Lung.”
 
Aisha stared, impressed.  “You went up against Lung?  Fuck me, that must have
been some fight.”
 
“Not really,” said Aegis.  “From what I heard, Pathfinder and Compass Rose
dropped a ship on him.  He sort of folded after that.”
 
Aisha’s eyes widened.  “Fu –“
 
“One more expletive out of your mouth, young lady,” snapped Director Piggot,
“and I will give Pathfinder and Compass Rose a direct order to take you to the
nearest washroom and scrub your mouth out with soap.”  She slapped the table
with her hand.  “Do I make myself abundantly clear?”
 
Aisha stopped talking, looked at Piggot, then at Pathfinder, then at Compass
Rose.  The latter nodded, as if to say, Yes, we’d do it.
 
“Uh, yes, you do,” she said, pausing in between words to apparently ensure that
she wasn’t going to come out with an accidental swear-word.
 
“I’m impressed,” commented Brian, into the silence that followed.  “No-one’s
ever managed to get Aisha’s attention like that before.”
 
“Well, he-heck, big bro,” Aisha said cheerfully.  “You shoulda seen Mr, uh,
Pathfinder here, kicking the living sh-sh-shoelaces outta Bradley.  He fu-f-uh,
he made him real sorry he’d ever touched me.”
 
“Still not sure you should have thrown him down the stairs, though,” commented
Compass Rose.
 
Piggot stared.  “You threw a man down the stairs?” she demanded.
 
Pathfinder shrugged.  “Child molester, would-be rapist,” he said, as if this
explained it all.
 
Aegis, Armsmaster, Miss Militia and Director Piggot looked at one another.
 
“I’m, uh, not seeing a problem,” said Aegis.
 
Miss Militia shrugged.
 
Armsmaster frowned, then nodded.  “I have little sympathy for him,” he
concluded.
 
The Director looked at Compass Rose.  “His current status?” she demanded.
 
She took hold of Pathfinder’s hand.  “Moving.  Alive.  Appears to have a broken
arm.  In some pain.  But he’s almost at the top of the stairs again.”
 
“Well, he’s alive, and he may well have learned a salutary lesson,” said
Piggot.  “Unless Ms Laborn wants to press charges …?”
 
Aisha shrugged.  “Fu – uh, forget him,” she decided, with a quick glance at
Pathfinder.  “If I can stay with you guys, I’m good.”
 
“What’s the legalities of this situation?” asked Pathfinder.  “Getting her out
of her mother’s custody might be quite a battle.”
 
Director Piggot shrugged.  “There’s drugs in the house?”
 
Aisha nodded.  “A shi-uh, shedload, yeah.”
 
“So we call the police,” continued the Director.  “They raid the place, bust
everyone for possession, she’s no longer a fit mother, and we fast-track her
being put into your joint custody.”  She looked at Brian, then at Pathfinder. 
“Mr Laborn, how old are you?”
 
“Seventeen, ma’am,” said Brian promptly.
 
She nodded.  “Well, when you turn eighteen, you’ll be eligible to take full
custody.  Until then, you and Pathfinder here will have joint custody.  How
does that suit you?”
 
Brian looked at Pathfinder.  “You got her out of that hellhole.  That suits me
just fine.”
 
“Well then, that’s settled.  Mr Laborn, find your sister a seat, and start
thinking about the name you’ll be using in the Wards.  Also, your sister will
need more substantial clothing than she’s wearing at the moment.”
 
Compass Rose leaned in and whispered for a moment to Pathfinder; a few seconds
later, a puff of spoke heralded the arrival of a folded T-shirt in his free
hand.  It puffed again, reappearing on the table in front of Brian.
 
“The hell?” he said, picking it up, and opening it to show a screen-print of
Alexandria on it.
 
“Let’s just say, I’m donating to the cause,” said Compass Rose.
 
Brian wordlessly handed the shirt to his sister, who looked at Pathfinder and
Compass Rose.  The latter nodded.  Aisha shrugged, and pulled the shirt over
her head, drastically reducing the amount of skin she was showing.
 
“Thank you, Compass Rose,” said the Director.  “Moving on.  Ms Lindt.”
 
“Bitch,” muttered the stocky auburn-haired girl.
 
“I beg your pardon?” snapped Director Piggot.
 
“Unacceptable!” snapped Armsmaster at the same time.
 
“Whoa, whoa,” said Brian.  “She calls herself Bitch.  She wasn’t calling you a
name, she was just telling you what she wants to be called.”  He turned to his
companion.  “Right – Bitch?”
 
Reluctantly, she nodded.
 
Piggot frowned.  “Well, in that case … we’re going to have to change that
name.  But, for the moment … are you willing to join the Wards?”
 
Rachel raised her eyes to the Director.  “Do I get to keep the dogs?” she asked
bluntly.
 
“Kennels can be set up for them,” said Miss Militia cautiously.
 
“No, I mean all the dogs,” countered Rachel.
 
“I … don’t get you,” said Director Piggot.
 
Brian cleared his throat.  “Uh, if I may, ma’am?” he said.
 
Piggot nodded.  “Go ahead, Mr Laborn.”
 
“Uh, Bitch wants to be able to take in any stray dogs she finds,” he
explained.  “Any that are being mistreated.  There are dog-fighting rings in
the city.  She wants to take those down, too, rescue the dogs.”
 
“And once you’ve got these dogs,” said Armsmaster, “what will you do with
them?”
 
“Feed them,” said Rachel.  “Get them healthy.  Train them.”
 
“She’s really, really good with dogs,” put in Brian.
 
“Could you train dogs to police standards?” asked Miss Militia, her expression
thoughtful.
 
Rachel just snorted.
 
“That’s a yes,” clarified Brian.  “But she doesn’t stop there.”
 
“Very well,” said Director Piggot.  “Suppose I placed you in the PRT – under
supervision, of course – to work with police and military dog handlers,
training dogs to your standards.  And I made it a condition of your working for
us that any stray dogs go under your care, and you have adequate facilities to
care for them all.”
 
Rachel looked up at her.  “What’s the catch?” she asked.
 
Piggot gave her a thin smile.  “You train dogs to work with other people,” she
said bluntly.  “Not just you.”
 
Bitch gave her a flat stare.  “Okay, but I get to take any dog that needs
help.  Not just the types trainers need.”
 
The Director matched her, stare for stare.  “Deal,” she said.
 
Armsmaster cleared his throat.  “Uh – what about the fact that she’s got a
murder charge on her sheet?”
 
Piggot gave him a bland stare.  “I said she’ll be under supervision.  You’re
it.  You’re also her liaison.  If she has a complaint, she goes to you.  If
people are screwing her over, all I want to hear is the after-action report.”
 
Both Armsmaster and Rachel started to protest; Piggot stared them both down. 
“You’ve got a problem with each other, deal with it between yourselves,” she
said grimly.  “Now.  Regent.”
 
The speaker next to the wall screen came to life.  “Ah, Director.  I was
wondering when you’d get to me.”
“I would have waited until you were healthier,” said the Director, “but I’d
prefer to get this out of the way now.”  She paused.  “We have several aliases
on file for you.  Which is your birth name?”
 
“Jean-Paul Vasil,” replied Regent on the screen.  “But I prefer just plain
‘Alec’.”
 
“Vasil … Vasil,” muttered Armsmaster.  “I know that name.”  He muttered the
name one more time, then paused.
 
A moment later, he spoke slowly.  “You’re related to Heartbreaker?”
 
“The very same,” confirmed Regent.  “But I’d rather that did not become common
knowledge.  He might decide to come take me back.  And I don’t want to go
back.”  He paused.  “But here’s the thing.  I’m grateful for the rescue and the
medical attention; don’t think I’m not.  But I’m a Master.  I control people. 
This sort of creeps people out.  Is there even room in your clubhouse for
someone like me?”
“What do you control about people?” asked Miss Militia.
 
“Their movements.  Use of physical powers.  Stuff like that,” said Regent.
 
“So you don’t control minds?” pressed Miss Militia.
 
“Not as such, no,” confirmed Regent.  “Don’t think I haven’t tried.  But it
just doesn’t work that way.”
Miss Militia glanced at Armsmaster.  He nodded fractionally.
 
“So we team you with people who have mental abilities, that you can’t control,”
he said.  “Of course, like the others, you’ll wear a tracking bracelet until we
decide you’re trustworthy.”
 
“Seriously?” asked Regent.  “Why not just an explosive collar?”
 
“We prefer not to use such drastic means,” Director Piggot deadpanned.  “Though
we could make an exception in your case.”
 
Regent grinned.  “Okay, fine.  Tracking bracelet it is.”
 
“Then welcome to the Wards,” said Director Piggot.
 
She got up and left the room; as she went, Compass Rose heard her mutter
something.  She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like, “and I hope we’re not
all making a huge mistake.”
 
She understood the sentiment perfectly.
***** Dealing with Matters *****
Chapter Summary
     Bitch and Armsmaster find unexpected common ground, Brian and Aisha
     move into the Hebert house, and Operation Dragon Drop goes off
     without a hitch.
Bitch glowered at Armsmaster.  “I don’t need a fucking minder!” she snarled.
 
“And the PRT doesn’t need someone who can’t take orders!” he growled back. He
took a breath; he was under specific orders to not start a fight with her. “I
can either watch you, or you go directly into custody.  There’s no third
option.  Do you get that?”
 
She looked at him.  He was bigger than her, stronger than her, and she didn’t
have any dogs with her. In addition, he had been very firmly put into authority
over her.
 
And they were caring for her dogs.  She had seen to that.  Might as well find
out what the fuck’s going on.
 
She shook her head.  “What the fuck is this all about, anyway?  I didn’t get
half that shit back there.  All that high-end double-talk bullshit.  What’s it
come down to?”
 
He sighed.  “Director Piggot thinks she’s being smart,” he explained.  “You got
rescued from Lung and the ABB, so she thinks you owe us.  And she’d rather have
capes working for us, under her thumb, than in jail.”
 
She stared at him.  “Well, why the fuck didn’t they just say so?”
 
He shrugged.  “They like to hear themselves talk?”
 
She surprised herself with a chuckle.  “You got that fucking right.  Talk,
talk, fucking talk.  Never say what they fucking mean.”
 
He looked at her.  “Well, with me, that’s the least of your worries.  If I say
something to you, what it sounds like is what it means.  I don’t believe in
needless talk.”
 
She was silent for a moment.  “Okay,” she said.  “What happens now?”
 
“Now,” he said, “we go and get you processed in, and start talking about legal
matters.”
 
“Legal matters?” she asked.  “What the fuck is this?”
 
“You’ve still got a murder charge hanging over you.  That sort of thing doesn’t
just go away.  So we’re going to use our high-powered lawyers to use their
legal double-talk bullshit to make it go away.”  He pointed at her.  “You don’t
say a fucking word.  I got this shit.”
 
She shrugged her shoulders.  “Fine,” she agreed.  “So long as I don’t have
to understand it.”
 
***
 
Director Piggot closed the window on her screen and smiled with quiet
satisfaction.  That could have gone either way, she knew. But thankfully, their
mutual social ineptitude provided a bonding point rather than a friction point.
She smiled with satisfaction.  And Lung is down, the ABB scattered. A good
day’s work.
 
Slowly, she shook her head.  Dropped a fucking ship on him.  Christ almighty.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and four people were standing in the Hebert living
room. 
 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose took their helmets off to become Danny and Taylor
Hebert.  As they did so, Brian and Aisha looked around with some interest.
 
“You’re underage until June,” said Danny, “so until then, I’ll technically be
your legal guardian.”  He nodded to Brian.  “I’ll be expecting you to keep your
sister in line, though.”
 
Aisha rolled her eyes.  "Yeah," she said.  "Like that's gonna happen."
 
"Hey!" snapped Brian.  "They're good enough to take us in, you show them some
respect, okay?  Or have you forgotten what they pulled you out of?"
 
Aisha subsided, looking sulky.  "I was just joking," she muttered.
 
Taylor broke the awkward silence that followed. “Come on,” she said to
Aisha.  “I’ll show you your room.”  
 
"I get my own room?" asked Aisha, startled out of her sulk.
 
"Sure," said Taylor.  "Come on."  She led the way upstairs, along the hallway,
and opened the door.  “It’s my old room,” she explained.  “I’ve been going to
move my stuff out anyway.”
 
“Where’s Brian gonna be sleeping?” asked Aisha.  “Shit, where are you gonna be
sleeping?”
 
“For Brian, we’ve got a spare room,” said Taylor.  “I … sleep with Danny.”
 
“So wait,” said Aisha.  “Pathfinder’s fucking you?  Isn’t he, like, your dad or
something?”
 
Taylor shook her head.  “No,” she said.  “He’s no relation, biologically
speaking.  He’s just legally my father.”
 
“Hey, don’t get me wrong,” said Aisha.  “I think it’s kind of kinky, myself.” 
She looked at Taylor expectantly.  “So, what’s the whole sex-with-an-older-guy
thing like, anyway?”
 
Taylor frowned.  “Why are you even asking these questions?  What we rescued you
from …”
 
“I don’t dwell on shit,” Aisha assured her.  “Two minutes time, I probably
won’t even remember this conversation.”  She jabbed Taylor with her
elbow. “Well?”
 
“You want to know what it’s like?” asked Taylor.  She leaned in close to
Aisha’s ear.  “None of your business,” she whispered.
 
Aisha stuck out her tongue at her.  “Maybe I’ll have to find out for
myself,” she challenged.
 
“And maybe you’ll swing and miss,” Taylor retorted.  “Because I know what turns
him on, and it isn’t you.”
 
“Says you,” replied Aisha with a wicked grin.
 
Taylor sighed.
 
***
 
In the kitchen, Danny paused in the process of making coffee.  “Back in  a
second,” he said to Brian.  A moment later, there was just a dissipating cloud
of purple-brown smoke where he had been standing.
 
Brian blinked.  I guess I should get used to that, he mused.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed next to Taylor; it dissipated to show Danny
standing there.  “Yes?” he asked.
 
Taylor indicated Aisha.  “She thinks she’ll be able to seduce you,” she said
bluntly.  
 
Aisha’s eyes went very wide.  “The fu-“ she began.
 
Danny shook his head.  “No,” he said to Aisha.  “You won’t.”  He looked at
Taylor.  “Was there anything else?”
 
She kissed him on the lips, slowly and lingeringly.  “No,” she said softly,
after she had finished.
 
He nodded.  “Okay,” he said, and smoke billowed where he had stood.
 
Aisha looked at Taylor with mixed confusion and surprise in her expression.  “I
don’t believe you just … did that!” she sputtered.
 
Taylor shrugged.  “I thought it was best to bring it into the open.  This way,
you know, I know, Danny knows.  Brian doesn’t need to know.”
 
“No,” agreed Aisha fervently.  “He doesn’t.”
 
***
 
“So what was that about?” asked Brian, when Danny reappeared next to him.
 
Danny grinned.  “Just settled a disagreement.”  He didn’t elaborate.
 
“Ah,” said Brian.  “Gotcha.”. He paused. "You can tell if Taylor needs you?"
 
Danny nodded.  "It's a power thing.  I know how she's feeling, and where she
is, and vice versa.". He started pouring the coffee.
 
"What, all the time?" asked Brian.  "I don't know if I could stand to have
someone in my head twenty-four-seven like that."
 
Danny shrugged.  "It's normal to us, now.  Taylor needs me, and I need her. 
It's that simple.". He handed Brian his coffee.
 
“Now,” he said, “we’ll be putting you into the spare room.  Aisha will be going
into Taylor’s old room.  Any stuff you own you can keep in your room, or
downstairs in the basement.”  He looked at Brian.  “Any questions?”
 
“Just one,” said Brian.  “I’m a criminal.  My sister’s shoplifted more than
once.  How do you know you can trust us in your home?  Not to steal stuff, I
mean.”
 
Danny grinned.  “You do recall what our powers are, don’t you?”
 
Brian looked enlightened.  “Ah, of course.  And Lisa said you were more
powerful than they said on TV.”
 
Danny nodded.  “Just a little,” he allowed.  “Just a little.”
 
Brian paused.  "So ... the fact that Taylor can keep tabs on us, that's why you
took us in?" he asked.
 
Danny shook his head.  "No.  The reason's a lot simpler than that."
 
He paused; Brian sent him a searching look. "Such as?" he asked.
 
"We've been where you are," said Danny bluntly. "Not exactly," he went on, as
Brian opened his mouth, "but close enough.  We were in a bad place -Taylor was
in a bad place - and there wasn't much I could do to help her.  Anyone we tried
reaching out to either couldn't or wouldn't help us.  We were just about
holding things together, but I didn't know how long that would last.  And then
... we got our powers. And that changed everything."
 
"Getting powers didn't change things enough for me," muttered Brian.
 
Danny nodded sympathetically.  "I guess we were in the right place at the right
time. My power alone is enough to make the Protectorate want me in their
ranks.  With Taylor added in, they were willing to bend way, wayy over backward
and bend quite a few rules in order to get us on side.  So our ... particular
situation ... got the official seal of approval."
 
"I can see that," agreed Brian. "Is it true that you dropped a ship on Lung?"
 
Danny nodded.  "Yeah," he said.  "It was the biggest thing we could find that I
could be sure of moving in a hurry."
 
Brian shook his head.  "I don't know whether to be more impressed that you
moved it, or that Lung survived it being dropped on him."
 
Danny chuckled.  "There is that.". He paused.  "So yes, Taylor and I have been
there, been where we desperately needed help and no-one would give it.  You and
Aisha are there now.  So ... we're helping."
 
Brian nodded.  "Well ... thanks," he said, and he didn't mean the coffee.
 
"Anytime," said Danny, and nor did he.
 
Just then, his smartphone rang.
 
***
 
Aisha bounced experimentally on the bed. "Cool," she said. "It doesn't even
smell of piss or cigarette smoke.  Or puke. Puke's the worst."
 
Taylor shook her head, trying not to smile at the way Aisha was trying to
conceal her delight.  "I've been there," she said.  "But not to sleep in."
 
"Yeah?" asked Aisha.  "What happened?"
 
So Taylor told the story of how she was shut in the locker, and how her father
had come and got her out.  Aisha was silent for most of the telling, her eyes
growing wider and wider.
 
"Fuck," she said at the end.  "Those bitches."
 
Taylor nodded.  "They got away with it for more than two years; there was no
reason for them to think they couldn't get away with it this time.  Except
...". She paused.  "You know Shadow Stalker?"
 
"Fuck yes," said Aisha.  "She's been trying to off Brian since the first time
they met."
 
Taylor nodded.  "Somehow, I'm not surprised," she said.  "She's one of the
bitches, you see.  So when I got my powers and figured that one out ..."
 
Aisha nodded.  "Well, fuck," she said happily.  "I'd love to have seen tho look
on her face when that came out.". She paused.  "So what happened to her?"
 
Taylor shrugged.  "Apparently, she tried to make a run for it.  Didn't get very
far.  So they threw the book at her.  Go straight to jail, do not pass Go, do
not collect two hundred dollars."
 
Aisha grinned.  "I'll tell Brian that.  It'll make his day.". She paused.  "So
what happened -"
 
She didn't get any farther, because just then Taylor's smartphone went off in
the pouch on her belt.  Taylor pulled it out and answered it.  "Compass Rose."
 
It was Miss Militia.  "Crawler's on the move.  We need you to execute plan
Dragon Drop."
 
"Roger," said Taylor crisply.  She put the phone away and held out her hands in
front of her; there was a puff of purple-brown smoke and her helmet fell into
them.
 
 “Shit,” said Aisha, impressed, just as Danny appeared in the bedroom, still
buckling his own helmet on.  “What’s up? You going somewhere?”
 
“Tell you when we get back,” said Taylor.  She gave the surprised Aisha a quick
hug.  “I’m glad you’re safe,” she said softly.
 
And then purple smoke bloomed, and they were gone.
 
Aisha watched it dissipate, then bounced on the bed again.  It was just as
springy as it had been the first time around.
 
***
 
Danny and Taylor appeared in the middle of the living room.  Danny turned to
Brian.  “I probably don’t need to say this,” he said, “but you’re in charge
till we get back. There’s food in the fridge, the remote’s on the TV, and the
bathroom’s upstairs.  We’ll go pick up your clothes when we get the chance.”
 
“Okay,” said Brian.  “And thanks again.”
 
He found himself talking to a cloud of the same purple-brown smoke as it wafted
into nothingness.
 
“Well, fuck,” he said out loud.
 
Aisha appeared at the top of the stairs.  “Hey, big bro.  Are you believing
this?”
 
Brian shook his head.  “Not really.”  He looked around at the living room, at
the small TV set.  “I wonder if Danny would object to me moving the gaming
console in here.”
 
Aisha came skipping down the stairs.  “Taylor would probably enjoy the hell out
of it.  Hell, you might even be able to rope Danny in.  He seems pretty cool.”
 
Brian nodded.  “Hey, we can only ask,” he said cheerfully.
 
They flopped on to the sofa, side by side.  After a brief tussle, Brian won
custody of the remote, which he used to turn on the TV. Soon, he was flicking
through news channels to see if he could find out where Pathfinder and Compass
Rose had gone off to in such a tearing hurry.
 
***
 
Shatterbird had survived the initial attack on the Slaughterhouse Nine, but she
had only lasted a week on her own before a conglomerate of capes from the
Southwest had banded together and captured her, using location data supplied by
the PRT (and, ultimately, Compass Rose).  She was handed over to the local PRT,
more dead than alive.  Given the extant kill order on her head, she was
summarily executed.
 
Crawler had been a different matter.  A stand-up fight he could handle, even
relish.  But when fliers zoomed overhead, trying to freeze or tranquillise or
otherwise make him amenable to capture, he had no fun.  There wasn’t even much
in the way of damage for him to heal.
 
So he had hidden out, away from the clattering helicopters, the rumbling
armoured vehicles.  They didn’t try to shoot him any more; they had learned
that it did virtually nothing.  But the helicopters and ground vehicles did
have familiar-looking spray guns. Containment foam.
 
Crawler considered containment foam to be the most cheating, unfair thing that
the PRT had ever brought out.  It did no damage, but it held him still.  The
only way for him to get out of it was to spit his corrosive saliva on it, or to
break free by main force.  If they deployed enough foam, neither way would
work.
 
But he’d figured it out.
 
If he stayed in one place for too long, they’d bring in something that could
hold him.  So he was gonna go for broke, head for the nearest population
centre.  Once he started tearing things up, eating people, they’d have to bring
in the big guns, dealing the big hurt.  Really start trying to kill him.
 
I can’t fucking wait.
 
***
 
Pathfinder and Compass Rose appeared beside Miss Miltia, on the landing stage
of the PRT building.  She raised an eyebrow.  “That took a few seconds longer
than I expected,” she observed.
 
Pathfinder shrugged.  “We had to make sure the Laborns were settled in,” he
explained.
 
Miss Militia nodded. “Well, I’ll be your pilot for the day.” She turned to the
Dragon suit crouching on the landing stage.  “It’s technically a two-seater. 
You’re going to have to share the second seat.”
 
“Not a problem,” Pathfinder assured her.
 
She grinned at him, behind her scarf.  “I presumed not.”
 
***
 
Climbing into the the rear seat of the Dragon suit was a little tricky;
Pathfinder’s legs were longer than the average, and Compass Rose had to
straddle his lap in order to fit.  She helped him do up his restraints.
 
As the cockpit closed over their heads, Compass Rose snuggled in to
Pathfinder’s embrace, and unclipped the lower part of his mask.
 
“Hi,” she murmured, kissing him gently.
 
“Hi,” he murmured back, returning the kiss.
 
She reached down between them. “I wonder if we could ...”
 
He grinned.  “Sure, but I’d have to remove certain items of clothing.”
 
The Dragon suit roared to life, and lifted off on jets of blue flame.
 
“When you’re ready,” Miss Militia said over the intercom.
 
Compass Rose nodded.  She kissed Pathfinder again; they needed skin contact,
and his hands were currently cupping her butt, quite enjoyably.
 
The PRT guards on the roof saw the craft disappear in a cloud of purple-brown
smoke.
 
***
 
They were hovering over an arid landscape.  Almost directly below, a monstrous
form thundered over the landscape, multiple legs kicking up dust as it headed
for the distant horizon.  A single helicopter circled it lazily.
 
“All units, all units,” broadcast Miss Militia.  “Operation Dragon Drop is a
go.”
 
“Roger,” replied the PRT personnel in the helicopter.  “Commence Operation
Dragon Drop.”
 
Miss Militia had been trained in the use of these Dragon suits, and Dragon
herself was acting as backup pilot. She brought the suit down in a long
swooping run at Crawler’s rear end, but the massive creature was faster than it
looked.  Abruptly braking, she pulled up as Crawler spun around and lunged for
it.
 
“Can you ‘port us close enough to grab him?” she said over the intercom.
 
Pathfinder stopped kissing Compass Rose long enough to say, “Let him grab us. 
The armour on this can take the hit long enough.”
 
“Huh,” said Miss Militia.  “Okay.  It just feels ... wrong, to deliberately
allow an enemy to strike me.”
 
“Even if he rips our jets off, I can still ‘port us to a safe landing,”
Pathfinder pointed out.
 
“Your point is well made. Very well.  Commencing second run.”
 
Pathfinder wrapped his arms around Compass Rose, who willingly reciprocated. 
Their lips met once more.
 
The Dragon suit swooped down; Crawler once more turned to meet it, but this
time Miss Militia did not shy from contact.  
 
The impact was bruising, but Pathfinder kept hold of Compass Rose.
 
“I have him!” shouted Miss Militia, audible even without the intercom, over the
scream of the jets.
 
Tentacles coiled past the windows.  And Crawler, apparently, had them.  The
jets laboured, but were unable to lift the mass of the monster they were now
grappling with.
 
In the back seat, the two capes kissed once more.  Body contact was
established.
 
The Dragon suit, Crawler and all, disappeared from under the baking sun.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and the ungainly combination reappeared, in the
depths of a shaft that had been tunneled straight down into the living rock.
 
There were no aquifers, no underground water, nothing here except ... rock.
 
Very thick rock.
 
Jets screamed as Dragon and Miss Militia tried to stabilise the craft against
the motion of the creature that was doing its best to climb on top of it and
gain entry.
 
They bumped, jarringly, against the side of the shaft.
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed again, and Crawler was left without any means of
support.
 
“OOOHHHH FUUUCCCKKK YOOOUUU!” he bellowed, in his discordant multiple voices,
as he fell.
 
***
 
The Dragon craft appeared high in the sky, skidding sideways, jets flaring as
Miss Militia and Dragon worked to bring it under control.  It didn’t take long;
however, even after it was on an even keel, red lights flared across the
control panel, showing what damage it had taken.
 
“So, did it work?” asked Miss Militia, over the intercom.
 
***
 
Crawler hit the bottom of the shaft with an impact that broke several of his
major bones, and liquefied one or two of his organs.  But he was on his feet
within seconds, looking around.
 
The shaft was twenty yards across, and it featured four metal pillars, one in
each corner, and a large display screen, easily ten feet across.
 
The screen lit with a picture of the Chief Director of the PRT, Roberta Costa-
Brown.
 
“Crawler,” she intoned.  “By the powers invested in me, and in accordance with
the kill order that has been placed on your head for your individual crimes, as
well as those committed while in the Slaughterhouse Nine, I now sentence you to
– SKRRZZZK!”
 
The screen shattered and shorted out, as Crawler ripped it from the wall and
stomped on the smoking remains.
 
A few seconds later, unseen speakers continued with Costa-Brown’s voice.  “- to
death.  You now have ten seconds to make peace with your actions.  May God have
mercy on your soul.”
 
All four metal pillars lit with red LEDs.  10.
9
8
7
Do they expect me to try to stop this? wondered Crawler.
 
He raised his multiple hands with fists clenched in triumph.
 
“FUCKING BRING IT!” he bellowed, as the timers ticked to zero.
 
As last words went, they weren’t bad.
 
***
 
A jet of flame struck upward from a point a dozen miles away; the rumble of the
detonation reached them some moments later.
 
“It  appears to have worked,” observed Pathfinder dryly.
 
“Did he even try to break the bombs?” asked Miss Militia.
 
Compass Rose shook her head, even though the older woman could not see her. 
“No.  He just ... let it happen.”
 
“But is he dead?” persisted Miss Militia.
 
“Oh, yes,” said Compass Rose. “Very thorougly.”
 
“Good,” said Miss Militia.  “You can take us home now.”
***
 
Purple-brown smoke bloomed, and the Dragon craft, a little the worse for wear,
settled on to the landing stage.  The cockpit opened, and all three figures
climbed out, Pathfinder settling his mask back into place. 
 
When the applause started, they all looked up in surprise.  In the few moments
that they’d been gone, the Wards and Protectorate capes had assembled on the
roof, along with what PRT staff could be spared from regular duties. And they
were all clapping.
 
Armsmaster stepped forward. “Well done,” he said.  “Very well done, indeed.” 
He nodded to Miss Militia.  “I’ll see you in briefing room three.  The Director
wants the after-action report.”
 
Miss Militia inclined her head. “Sir.”  She turned to Compass Rose and
Pathfinder, and shook their hands, one after the other.  “I’ll see you two
later,” she said, then turned to follow Armsmaster.
 
The rest of the Protectorate, as well as the Wards, surrounded them, shaking
their hands, slapping them on the back, and generally congratulating them.
 
“So, wait,” said Compass Rose, once the noise died down a bit.  “You were
waiting on us?  You knew we’d succeed?”
 
Kid Win hugged her. “Well, duh,” he said cheerfully. “Who’s gonna bet against
Compass Rose and Pathfinder?”
 
She grinned at him and hugged him back.  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,”
she said.
 
***
 
Assault shook Pathfinder’s hand.  “Well,” he said, “you’ve managed to raise the
bar.  Again.” He grinned.  “What’s next?  An Endbringer?”
 
Pathfinder shook his head. “Christ,” he said.  “I hope not.”
 
***
 
Brian stirred the casserole on the stove while Aisha lounged on the sofa,
channel-surfing.
 
“Smells good, big bro,” she called out.  “You been taking lessons?”
 
“Hey,” he replied, “you live on your own for a while, you learn how, or you end
up eating a lot of takeout.” He paused.  “Maybe you could stand to learn to
cook as well.”
 
She made a rude sound with her lips.  “As if.”  She stopped on a news channel,
which showed PRT craft cautiously circling around a smoking hole in the
ground.  “Huh.  What’s this?”
 
“What’s what?” he called out from the kitchen.
 
“Something on the news ... holy shit.  I think I know where they went.”
 
“Where?” he asked, wandering into the living room with a spoon in his hand.
 
“To kill Crawler.”
 
He stared at the TV.  “You’re kidding.”  After a moment reading the banner
title, he changed his mind.  “You’re not kidding.”
 
Aisha stared at the screen. “Holy fuck.”
 
“Just between you and me,” suggested Brian, “I think you should start being
more polite to them.”
 
Aisha nodded.  “I think you’re right, big bro.  I think you’re right.”
 
***** Wild Monkey Sex *****
Chapter Summary
     Taylor lets Chris down easy, Missy goes on a not-a-date with Dean,
     Amy and Vicky continue to explore their relationship. In bed. A lot.
     And then something really big happens.
Taylor clung to the end of Danny’s bed, breath hissing through her teeth.  Clad
only in her costume with the strategic cutouts, she was bent over, back arched,
sweat soaking through the thin cloth.
 
Behind her, Danny held on to her hips as he thrust his rampant erection deep
between her taut buttocks.  She grunted with each stroke, felt his penis
stretch her anus wide as he rammed himself to the hilt within her tightest
orifice, again and again and again.  Her exposed breasts, nipples swollen with
her arousal, bobbed back and forth as she was jolted forward by the force of
each stroke.
 
“Fuck, yes, Dad,” she groaned, clenching her rectal passage tight around his
thrusting member.  “I needed this so bad.”
 
He grinned, baring his teeth, his scrotum slapping against her distended labia
with each powerful stroke.  Fucking Taylor was good at any time, but fucking
her ass like this, while she wore that costume, drove him to whole new levels
of arousal.
 
“So did ... you let ... Chris fuck ... your ass?” he asked, timing his words
between the strokes.
 
“No,” she grunted, arching her back as a particularly powerful stroke hit her
in a sensitive spot.  “Oh yeah.  No, just vanilla sex.  Came in me a bunch,
though.”
 
“Chance of ... pregnancy?” asked Danny, running his hands over Taylor’s thinly-
clad buttocks and thighs as he continued to fuck her mercilessly.
 
“Nope, I saw Amy,” Taylor managed.  
 
***
 
“Amy!” said Taylor, holding out her arms.  “Vicky!”
 
Amy Dallon smiled broadly and hugged Taylor closely.  Victoria waited till her
sister finished hugging the Ward, then took her turn in hugging her.  Then she
put her hands on either side of Taylor’s face and gave her a firm kiss on the
lips.
 
Taylor giggled.  “Wow, what was that for?”
 
“For giving Amy the idea to come out to me,” said Vicky.  “She told me the
whole story.  And now she’s happy, and I’m happy, and it’s all due to you.  So,
a kiss for thank-you.”
 
Taylor grinned.  “You could have just said ‘thank you’, you know.”
 
Vicky shook her head.  “It was also an invitation, of sorts.  If you ever want
to try out something new.  Amy and me together.”  She looked Taylor in the
eye.  “Because we’re really, really grateful.”
 
Taylor smiled and put a hand on her arm.  “I appreciate the offer, really, I
do.  But I don’t really think I’m into girls.  Or most guys.  Just my dad,
mainly.”
 
Amy raised an eyebrow.  “And what about Chris?”
 
Taylor rolled her eyes.  “Okay, fine, I slept with Chris.  And it was fun.” 
She paused.  “Which is more or less why I’m here.”
 
“Oh?” asked Amy.
 
“Yeah,” said Taylor.  “I want you to make me infertile for, say, six months. 
Because I’ve been having sex with Dad since Christmas, but he’s got that
vasectomy.  I think he’ll be asking you to reverse that, sometime soon.  I want
to keep having sex with him, without needing protection.  And with Chris,
maybe, if I feel like it.”
 
Amy nodded, and put her hand on Taylor’s arm.  “So, why sleep with Chris at
all?” asked Vicky.  
 
“To see if it was any good,” said Taylor.  “I mean, before all this shit
happened, I was a virgin, because none of the jocks would even look my way. 
Partly because of the three bitches, partly because I was a nerd and a geek.” 
She shrugged.  “My Dad was my first sexual partner.  So I wanted to know if
having sex with someone my age would be better, worse, indifferent.”
 
Amy raised an eyebrow.  “So ...?” she asked.
 
Taylor grinned.  “Nice enough that I won’t rule out a return engagement, but
not so great that I’ll make a habit of it.”
 
Amy reached up, cupped Taylor’s chin in her hand.  “Vicky was serious about the
offer, if you ever want to find out if having sex with two girls your age is
just as nice,” she said softly.  She tugged Taylor’s face down level with hers,
and placed a delicate kiss on her lips, an echo to her sister’s.
 
Taylor nodded.  “Well, like I said, I don’t think I’m into girls.”
 
Vicky grinned.  “I didn’t think I was either.  But then Amy talked me into
kissing her.”
 
“Hah, you wish,” Amy retorted.  “You decided to kiss me, to see what it was
like with a girl.  You made that choice entirely of your own accord.”
 
Vicky gathered her into a hug.  “Did I even hint that I regretted it?” she
asked softly.
 
Amy turned her face up to her sister’s, and they shared a slow, lingering kiss.
 
“No,” she breathed.
 
“Well then,” said Vicky.  She turned to Taylor and grinned.  “Sorry, but we
have to go.  I have to get my sister home and rip all her clothes off.”
 
“Okay, see you later,” began Taylor, but suddenly there was a rush of wind, and
she found herself talking to the air.
 
She grinned as she started home.  Well, they’re happy.

***
 
Taylor cried out and arched her back as Danny’s hammering strokes drove her
quivering body over the edge into a blinding orgasm.  She clung to the bed,
eyes squeezed shut, as he continued to ram his hard penis into her thoroughly
tenderised bottom.  He felt her climax, let it drive him into his own
spectacular orgasm; his cock jerked and then exploded deep between her
buttocks, filling her bowels with jet after jet of hot white semen.
 
She felt him cumming inside her, and came again; the multiplied sensations
blasted back and forth between them, to push their mutual pleasure to ever more
spectacular heights.
 
By the time the feedback loop finally petered out, both Danny and Taylor were
exhausted, shaking, and on their knees.  Taylor still clung to  the end of the
bed, as to a lifeline.
 
Danny teleported them both on to the bed, even as his deflating erection
slipped out of her twitching ass.  She smiled and snuggled up to him, kissing
and caressing him.  At a touch, he teleported the costume off her body.
 
“That was awesome,” she murmured.  “I never knew we could do it that many times
in a row.”
 
“Me neither,” he agreed, sweat running down his face.  “How’s your butt?”  His
hand caressed the area in question.
 
“Well, you came in there three times already,” she giggled.  “But the last time
was the best.  I love it when you’re that rough with me, when I’m ready for
it.”  She wriggled slightly.  “I might want to hold off on the anal for a
while, though.  I think I’ll be sore for a few days.”
 
“You’ll be sore?” snorted Danny.  “You were squeezing me so tight it felt like
you were skinning me alive.”
 
She giggled and kissed him.  “You love it,” she told him.  “Don’t deny it.”
 
He kissed her back.  “Not denying it,” he stated.  “Just making a comment.”
 
They were quiet for a time, just enjoying the closeness and the afterglow from
truly awesome sex, then she giggled.
 
“Hm?” he asked.
 
“It’s a good thing Brian knows how to cook,” she murmured with a grin and a
kiss.
 
“Why’s that?” he asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.
 
“Because all we’ve done this week is eat, sleep and screw.”
 
As generalised statements went, it was a fairly accurate one.  Pathfinder and
Compass Rose had found themselves with not much to do, since Director Piggot
had ordered them to take some down-time.  As a result, they had been spending a
lot more time with each other, even with their new house-guests in resdence. 
And when Brian and Aisha went out during the day, the sex began.
 
The down-time was the result of a rumour going around about a super-powered
assassin making the rounds.  Crawler had been written off as a PRT coup, but
with the deaths of Heartbreaker and Valefor, people had started talking.
 
***
 
Alec looked up as they wheeled a large-screen TV into his room.
 
“What’s this?” he asked.
 
“Something you might want to see,” explained Armsmaster, entering the room as
the techs began setting up the equipment.
 
“Oh god, it’s not another inspirational fucking video from Glenn, is it?”
groaned Alec.  “I swear, one more of those, I’ll be slitting my fucking
wrists.”
 
Armsmaster shook his head.  “Inspirational, yes.  From Glenn, no.”
 
The techs were finished; he ordered them from the room.  Then he picked up the
remote and pressed the correct button.
 
The picture was grainy and jumpy, but Alec tensed all the same.  “That’s ...”
 
Armsmaster nodded.  “Your father’s house, yes.”
 
“Where are you getting this footage from?” Alec wanted to know.
 
Armsmaster opened his hand, and a tiny buzzing object made its way to Alec,
circled his head, then returned to the armoured hero.  “A collaboration between
myself and Dragon,” he explained.
 
“Ah.”  Alec turned his attention back to the screen.  A very familiar face had
just entered the picture; despite himself, he shrank back slightly. 
“Heartbreaker,” he whispered.
 
Armsmaster nodded.  “Indeed.”
 
The picture switched to a different location, looking down from an angle at ...
“Is that a toilet?”

The door on the screen opened, and Heartbreaker entered the small room.
 
“Wait,” said Alec.  “You’ve got footage of my dad going to the bathroom?”

“Just watch,” commanded Armsmaster.
 
Alec sighed and watched.  Nico Vasil was not an imposing man, but he would
always stand tall in his son’s mind, looming over everything else.  But sitting
on the toilet, he was just the same as everyone else –
 
“Wait, what was that?”
 
A puff of smoke on the screen, and something small and round fell on to
Heartbreaker’s lap.
 
And then there was nothing but flame and debris.  The screen went blank.
 
Alec struggled for words.  “Did you just ... assassinate ... my dad?  For me?”
 
Armsmaster looked straight at him.  “Nico Vasil had a kill order on his head. 
He destroyed the lives of hundreds of innocents.  We didn’t do it just for
you.”
 
He called the techs back into the room, and they removed the TV.  As it was
wheeled out the door, Armsmaster turned to Alec.  “Think about it,” he said. 
And then he was gone, too.
 
Well, fuck.  Alec lay back on the pillows.  He had a lot to think about.
 
He didn't have as much time as he'd thought, however.  Moments after the door
closed, Aisha got up from the chair in which she had been sitting.
 
"Well," she declared.  "That was kinda cool."
 
Alec jumped.  "How long have you been here?" he demanded.
 
Aisha grinned.  "Long enough to watch you trying to put the moves on that
nurse, and getting shot down in flames," she said cheerfully.
 
"No, I mean, how did you get in here?" he asked.  "I'm sure I would have
noticed."
 
She grinned wickedly.  "My secret, dweeb."
 
His eyes went wide.  "You've got powers - you're a cape!"
 
Her grin widened.  "Got it in one."
 
He stared at her.  "Does Brian know?"
 
Aisha's grin was positively impish.  "In good time.  I have ideas for a few
pranks first." 
 
***
 
Danny nibbled Taylor’s ear.  She murmured in pleasure, rolled over, caressed
his body.
 
“So,” he said softly, “have you gotten back to Chris yet?”
 
She kissed him.  “Yeah,” she replied.  “He’s still coming to terms with the
fact that it was just a fun date with no strings attached, but he’s getting
there.”
 
***
 
Taylor and Chris sat side by side on the bed in his quarters.
 
“Taylor ...” he said softly.
 
She smiled at him, and kissed him gently.  He went to put his hand up under her
top, but she pushed it away again.
 
“I’m not here for sex, Chris,” she said quietly.  “A little makeout session,
sure.  A kiss and a cuddle.  But not sex.”
 
“But the other night, we ...” he began, looking confused.
 
“That was the other night,” she said.  “I wanted to know if sex with someone my
own age could be as much  fun as it is with Pathfinder.”
 
“And was it?” he asked hopefully.
 
She smiled and kissed him again.  “It was great,” she told him.  “I might even
do it again.  But ... not right now, okay?”
 
He sighed.  “Okay,” he said.  
 
She grinned and put her arms around him.  “Hey,” she said.  “Now that you know
a bit more about sex than you did before, you should be able to wow the
ladies.”
 
“What ladies?” he retorted.  “Shadow Stalker’s gone, Rachel would break me in
half just for asking, Insight's not interested, and Vista’s what, twelve?”
 
“Thirteen,” she corrected. 
 
“Thirteen, whatever,” he said.  “Plus, she’s more interested in Gallant.”
 
She nodded.  “You’re right there.  But you know, there’s more than just the
Wards.  You could date civilians.”. She paused.  "Aisha, for instance."
 
"I asked her," he said mournfully.  "She laughed.  No - she cackled.". He
shuddered.  "Not going there again."
 
"Well," she said with a consoling hand on his shoulder, "you could try asking
girls who don't have ex-supervillains for brothers."
 
“I suppose,” he said doubtfully.  “But you’ll always be ...”  he trailed off.
 
She nodded and kissed him again.  “And you’ll always be special in my heart
too,” she assured him.  “If I had met you socially sometime, and you had asked
me out, I probably would have said yes.”
 
He smiled and kissed her in return.  It’s not perfect, but I’ll take what I can
get, he told himself.
 
***
 
"Hey, Dean, what's up?" chirped Vista, plopping down into the seat beside him.
 
"Oh, hey, Missy," the older hero greeted her morosely.  "My powers suck."
 
"How's that?" she asked him.
 
"Well, you'd think that I could figure out what people are thinking, if I knew
what emotions they're feeling, right?" 
 
She nodded.  "You usually can, right?"
 
"Yeah," he grunted.  "Except that I have no idea what's going through Vicky's
head.  I really don't."
 
"Why, what do you mean?" she asked.
 
"I thought we were going well," he groaned.  "I'd gone on a few really good
dates with her, and she was really, uh, friendly," he amended on the fly for
his younger teammate.
 
"You mean, she had sex with you," she said bluntly.  "I'm thirteen, Dean, not
eight.  I know about the birds and the bees, and what happens when a mommy and
a daddy love each other very much."
 
He flushed, as much at the cutting tone of her voice as at her choice of
words.  "Uh, yeah," he admitted.
 
"And then what happened?" she asked.
 
"Nothing," he said, frustrated.  "Between one week and the next.  I don't hear
from her for a week, and then when I do get in contact with her, she simply
tells me we're done.  Finished.". He threw up his hands.  "We didn't even have
a fight, this time!" 
 
"Did she say why?" asked Missy.
 
He shook his head.  "Just that she had someone else now, and she was happy."
 
She shook her head.  "Wow, that sucks," she said sympathetically.
 
He gave her a flat look.  "You've got a really good poker face, but don't think
I didn't pick up the fireworks in your brain just now.  You're being nice
because I'm down, but you're really happy that Vicky's dumped me, aren't you?"
 
It was her turn to flush.  "Uh, yeah," she admitted in a small voice.  Then she
looked him straight in the eye.  "And you know why," she challenged him.
 
"Yeah," he nodded.  "I guess I do."
 
"You know how I feel about you," Missy went on.  "You know I'd never do
something as mean as Vicky's done to you.". His answering nod was faint, but it
was there.
 
"So tell me," she went on implacably, "why you've never, not once, looked at me
like that.  Like you look at Vicky."
 
He sighed, trying to word his rejection as kindly as possible.  "Missy," he
said.  "I'm three years older than you.  It would look wrong for a sixteen year
old to be dating a thirteen year old."
 
"Really?" she asked sweetly.  "Or is it more to do with the fact that the
thirteen year old looks eleven, and that you aren't attracted to me, because I
look too young?"
 
He winced.  "I'm supposed to be the Thinker, not you," he protested.
 
“So think about it,” she retorted.  “Being three years younger than you just
means that when I’m sixteen, you’ll be nineteen.  And when I’m nineteen, you’ll
be twenty-two.  No-one will even look twice at us.”
 
“That doesn’t change matters here and now,” he pointed out.
 
She sighed.  “Fine.  I look like a kid, and you aren’t interested.  I get it. 
You want someone who’s actually developed.”  She started to get up, fighting
back tears.  I’m an idiot to think he’d even look at me twice.
 
“Wait a moment,” he said.  She stopped, turning to look at him.
 
“Listen,” he told her.  “You came over to see how I was.  I appreciate that. 
You listened to me.  And I get that you’ve got that crush, that you’re
attracted to me.”  He grimaced.  “I can’t do much about that.  But we can do
stuff.  Go to the movies or something, out of costume.  Get to know each other
better.  Not boyfriend and girlfriend, you understand.  Just ... friends.  Good
friends.  Okay?”
 
He could see the sunburst of happiness that spread out from her, and he smiled
involuntarily.  She really does care for me.  “Yeah,” she said, her face
lighting up in echo of the emotions that he perceived.  “Yeah, that’ll be
really great.   Thanks.”
 
Standing up, he pulled her into a rough hug; she put her arms around him.  They
stood like that for a moment, then disengaged.  “Now,” he said.  “I heard that
there’s a new Earth Aleph movie in at the cinemas.  Want to go see?”
 
“Sure,” she grinned up at him.  “Let’s do that.”
 
It’s a start, she thought as they walked out of the room.  At least now he’s
paying attention to me.
 
***
 
Brian and Aisha stepped off the bus and strolled down the sidewalk toward the
Hebert house.
 
“So, did you have a good day at school?” he asked.
 
“I had a good day,” she replied with a grin.
 
“At school?” he pressed.
 
She rolled her eyes.  “Not so much, big bro.  Got bored, so I went and visited
Alec.  He’s getting better.”
 
“Seriously, Aisha,” said Brian.  “If Child Services is going to okay us staying
with Danny and Taylor, you need to show that you’re making an effort.  Going to
school is a big start.”
 
“Yeah, I know,” she groaned.  “But it’s just so … bor-ring.”
 
“Stick to it,” he advised.  “You’ll find something you like.”
 
“Yeah,” she retorted.  “Recess.”
 
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he told her, trying for a severe
tone.  She gave him the finger, more or less out of habit.
 
“So, do you think they’ll have finished with the wild monkey sex by the time we
get back?” she asked.
 
Brian stared at her.  “Wild mon –  Aisha, what the hell have you been doing?”
 
She hunched her shoulders.  “Went home after I left school.  Came in the front
door and they were doing it on the sofa.  Seriously, not something an
impressionable child of my age should be exposed to.  So I went in to visit
Alec.”
 
Brian stared.  “So what did they say when they saw you?”
 
She half-shrugged.  “They didn’t see me?”
 
Brian raised an eyebrow.  “Huh.  I am impressed.  They’re very hard to sneak up
on, especially by people they know.”
 
“Hey,” said Aisha, striking a ridiculous pose.  “I am ninja master.”  She made
several strikes and blocks, one of which nearly left her on her butt, and mimed
badly dubbed dialogue; “You will fight me now and die!”
 
Brian snorted with amusement.  “If they ask you, own up to it, okay?  And try
to get to school more often.”
 
She rolled her eyes as they walked up the path toward the front door.  “Yes,
mom.”
 
At that moment, the sirens went off.
 
***
 
Dean and Missy entered the cineplex, looking around to see what was playing
soon.  Missy wished she had the nerve to grab Dean’s hand, but figured he’d
probably consider it pushing the boundaries.
 
“So what do you want to watch?” asked Dean.
 
Missy shrugged.  “Oh, anything’s good,” she said.  I’m going to the movies with
Gallant! she exulted.  It’s not a date, but whooo!
 
He raised an eyebrow.  “I get the impression that I could suggest Twilight and
you’d agree to it.”
 
She grinned unrepentantly.  “Bring it on.”
 
“Okay,” he said, a grin spreading across his own face.  “I choose …”
 
And at that moment, the sirens went off.
 
***
 
Vicky lay across Amy’s lap, naked but for the blindfold, the fluffy handcuffs
and the see-through lacy panties.  Amy was minus even that; she was thorougly
naked, and each sister was acutely aware of the other’s warm skin through the
contact.
 
“You’ve been a bad, bad girl,” said Amy, attempting a severe tone.
 
“I’m so sorry,” said Vicky meekly.  “I shouldn’t have kissed her.”
 
Amy slapped her on the barely-covered butt.  Vicky had left her force field
down for the occasion, and she squeaked as the impact registered.
 
“You don’t sound sorry to me,” Amy intoned, and slapped her again.  Vicky
jumped.  “I think you wanted to have sex with her.”
 
“I’m sorry,” said Vicky, trying to sound contrite, when what she was feeling
was highly aroused.  “She was so sexy, and I wanted to surprise you with her.”
 
Amy continued to spank her sister, pausing only to pull her panties down and
off, before resuming the punishment.  Vicky sobbed and twisted and pretended to
struggle, arousing both of them considerably.
 
“Now, get up on the bed,” snapped Amy.  “I’ll show you what happens to naughty
girls.”
 
“Oh yes, please,” breathed Vicky.  It was arousing to dominate Amy and force
her to do her will, but she had found it to be equally enjoyable to let Amy do
these things to her.  They both got off on it so very much.
 
Cheating just a bit with her flight, she got off of  Amy’s lap and posed
herself with her knees on the edge of the bed, thighs well apart, face down.
 
Amy went to get the strap-on dildo with which Vicky had deflowered her – and
with which each of them had violated the other in oh so many ways – and
approached her from behind.  She ran her hands over Vicky’s back and down over
her ribs, reaching under to caress Vicky’s breasts, tweaking the nipples. 
Vicky moaned at the sensation, feeling the dildo sliding up and down between
her ass cheeks.
 
Alternately caressing and then slapping Vicky’s butt, Amy carefully positioned
the head of the dildo between Vicky’s labia, at the entrance to her wet and
willing vaginal canal.
 
“Do you want this, you bad girl?” she asked, slapping Vicky on the butt once
more.
 
“Oh, yes,” moaned Vicky, driven almost out of her mind by the foreplay.  “Do it
to me.”
 
Amy smiled, licking her lips.  She so enjoyed doing this with her sister,
having it done to her.  Vicky liked a light spanking, while Amy liked it hard
enough to leave bruises.
 
It’s funny, she mused at the back of her mind.  I’m fragile and I like it
rough.  Vicky’s tough and she likes it gentle.  What does that say about us?
 
Slowly, she began to slide the dildo into her sister’s slippery depths.  Vicky
arched her back and cried out as her vagina was invaded, pushing back against
it as Amy thrust into her.
 
Amy had just hit a good rhythm, with Vicky moaning and panting under her, when
the sirens went off.
 
***
 
Water streamed over Taylor’s face and body.  The wall of the shower cubicle was
at her back, and she had her arms and legs wrapped around Danny’s body.  He
kissed her as he steadily thrust into her tight wet vaginal canal; she moaned
in time with his thrusts, digging her nails into his back.
 
Hot slippery soapy shower sex was one of her very favourites; her swollen labia
were stretched to their utmost as Danny’s long penis bedded itself to the very
limit inside her slippery depths.  She worked her hips back and forth, lending
an extra fillip to the sensations boiling inside both of them.
 
She arched her back and groaned as she came around him, then kissed him avidly,
her tongue duelling with his.  Supporting her weight easily, he slid his member
deep into her vaginal canal, slowly and steadily, keeping his own arousal under
control as he drove Taylor slowly but steadily out of her mind with sheer
pleasure.
 
“They just got off the bus,” she murmured into his ear, then kissed him again.
 
“Okay,” he groaned, and stepped up the pace.  She opened her eyes wide as she
felt a whole new series of orgasms approaching.  When they hit, they blasted
through Danny as thoroughly as they did Taylor, and triggered his own climax. 
She came, repeatedly, as his cock spurted jet after jet of hot semen deep
inside her womb.
 
“Oh god,” she groaned, as he let her down, and his penis slid out of her. 
“That just keeps getting better and better.”
 
“I think we just keep getting better and better at it,” he observed with a
grin.
 
“Not arguing,” she grinned back, washing herself off.  She stepped from the
shower and grabbed her towel, and started drying off.  While Danny was still
getting dry, she dressed and wandered downstairs to greet Brian and Aisha.  
 
She supposed from the flushed look that it would not be impossible for them to
figure out what she’d been up to with Danny, but that wasn’t anything she was
worried about.
 
Just as she reached the front door, the sirens went off.
 
***
 
An Endbringer had come to Brockton Bay.
***** Enter the Endbringer *****
Chapter Summary
     Amy and Vicky get caught out. Leviathan meets Pathfinder and Compass
     Rose.
Taylor opened the door to see Brian and Aisha on the path.  “Come on, get
inside!” she shouted.
 
They reacted, breaking from their instinctive freeze, and bolted into the
house.
 
“Which one is it?” asked Brian.
 
“Don’t know,” Taylor said grimly.  She grabbed the remote and flicked on the
TV.  She didn’t have to choose a channel; the warning was on all of them.
 
“- than is approaching the city. All citizens, move away from the waterfront
and either seek high ground or go to your nearest Endbringer shelter.”
The voice was calm, emotionless.  She wondered if it was computer generated.
 
A graphic came up, showing a map of Brockton Bay, overlaid with flood map
colours.  A blinking red dot was visible offshore.  Little winking green
symbols scattered over the map indicated Endbringer shelters.
 
“If you are in the red zone, leave NOW.  Do not stop to grab anything more than
arms’ length away.  Leave NOW NOW NOW.  If you are in the orange zone, grab
anything that you need, but do not take more than five minutes.  If you are in
the yellow zone, you have ten minutes of leeway.  If you are in the green zone,
you have half an hour.”
 
Taylor noted that there was no green zone.
 
The graphic changed to a cartoon image of a skyscraper.  Blinking red arrows
next to it pointed up and down from about the fifth floor.
 
“If you are in a tall building, go to the roof or a high floor. Stay away from
windows.  If you are at or near ground level, go to your nearest Endbringer
shelter.”
 
The banner at the bottom was scrolling. Taylor focused on it.  LEVIATHAN
APPROACHING CITY.  EVACUATE LOW LYING AREAS.  SEEK HIGH GROUND OR ENDBRINGER
SHELTER.  LEVIATHAN APPROACHING CITY ...
 
The voice began its spiel once more.  “Leviathan is approaching the city.  All
citizens ...”
“What zone are we in?” asked Brian.  His voice seemed strangely strangled.
 
“Orange,” said Taylor.  “Five minutes.”
 
“We’ll need less than that,” Danny said, even as he appeared in a billow of
smoke.  “Brian, are you fighting?”
 
“Maybe I can blind him?” suggested Brian.  “But Aisha has to get to a shelter
...”
 
“Fuck that!” snapped the girl.  “Taylor can fight, I can fight!”
 
“Aisha,” said Taylor, trying to be gentle about it, “Brian has powers.  So do
Dad and I.  You don’t.”
 
“Like fuck I don’t,” snapped Aisha.  
 
“You’ve got powers?” asked Brian.
 
“Who’s got powers?” asked Taylor.
 
“What about powers?” asked Danny.
 
Aisha appeared in the middle of them.
 
“Holy crap!” snapped Brian.  “What the fuck, Aisha?”
 
“I can turn sort of invisible,” Aisha said proudly.  “I can fight.”
 
Brian grimaced.  “I don’t like it ...”
 
“If she’s got powers, and she chooses, it’s her right,” said Danny quietly. 
“You have to let her make her own decisions eventually.”
 
“Arrrright!” crowed Aisha.
 
“But you don’t get close to him!” snapped Brian. “You stay out of the way.  You
help people who are hurt, stuff like that!”
 
“Well, duh,” she said.  “I wasn’t exactly gonna take him on in hand to hand.”
 
“... good,” he said.  “Danny, can I have my costume –“
 
Taylor put her hand on Danny’s arm.  Grue’s costume, neatly folded, with the
helmet on top, was suddenly in Danny’s hands, in a cloud of dissipating purple-
brown smoke.
 
“Fuck,” said Aisha.  “That’s very fuckin’ impressive.”
 
As Brian took his costume, Taylor’s costume appeared in turn, piecemeal. 
Taylor took each piece as it arrived.  Not even bothering to run upstairs to
her bedroom, she stripped to her underwear and began climbing into the costume.
 
“Dang,” said Aisha.  “Nice body there, Taylor.”  She turned to Brian, who was
donning his Grue costume.  “You see that ass, big bro?”
 
“Aisha!” snapped Brian.  “Enough!”
 
Taylor was blushing furiously, but was not pausing in her dressing efforts. 
Strangely, although she had not been fazed by showing her body to Chris, she
felt embarrassed by Aisha commenting on it.
 
Next, Danny got his own costume, and put it on over the t-shirt and boxers that
he was wearing.
 
The moment they were costumed up, Danny grasped Brian with one hand; Taylor
took his hand and grabbed Aisha with the other.
 
They went.
 
***
 
“Oh fuck,” groaned Amy.  She started to pull the dildo out of Victoria.
 
“Don’t you fucking dare, Amy Dallon,” growled Vicky. “You will finish fucking
me, or I’ll make you wait a year before I fuck you again.”
 
Grabbing Victoria’s hips anew, Amy resumed pumping the dildo between her slick
labia, shoving harder with each thrust.  Vicky groaned and pushed back at her. 
It didn’t actually take forever for Vicky to reach orgasm; it just felt that
way.
 
But it did mean that when the bedroom door was flung open by Carol Dallon, she
caught both girls in flagrante extremely delicto.
 
Vicky was face-down on the bed, panting from the intensity of the orgasm; Amy
was just pulling the dildo out of her. Carol stared, then exclaimed, “What in
God’s name are you two doing?”
 
Amy was suddenly and totally tongue-tied. Vicky raised herself on her elbows
and looked at her mother.  “Fucking, Mom.  Amy and I are fucking. Get used to
it.”
 
“But you’re sisters!” snapped Carol.  “That’s illegal!  And immoral!”
 
“Only by adoption,” Victoria pointed out. “We’re not related, remember? You’re
all about how Amy isn’t really your daughter.”
 
“Can we deal with this after the Endbringer?” Amy pleaded.
 
Carol turned to her, her expression cold. “After the Endbringer ...” she said
harshly, “you can find another place to live.  Because you’re not living under
my roof.”
 
“Fine,” said Vicky.  “We’ll find a place together.”
 
Carol stared.  “What –“
 
Vicky was looking through her closet and pulling on her top over her naked
breasts.  “After the fucking Endbringer, Mom.  Fuck’s sake. Priorities.”  She
looked for the shorts she normally wore under the skirt, grabbed a pair of
frilly panties instead.  Pulled on the boots, fitted the tiara.
 
Amy sidled past Carol and into her own room. Her robes took but a second to
pull on; it shouldn’t matter to anyone that she was naked under it.  She did
take a moment to unstrap the dildo. That would definitely cause comment.
 
***
 
“Seriously,” said Vista.  “You have got to be fucking kidding me.  I finally
get to go to the movies with you, and an Endbringer attacks?  What does the
world have against me and my happiness?”
 
"I'm fairly certain that it's not about you and your happiness, Missy," Dean
observed gently as he moved alongside her. She was crunching space as fast as
she could, to get them back to the PRT building in the least time possible.
 
Suddenly, she stopped.  Dean stared at her.  "The fuck it's not," she snapped. 
"I want one good thing to come out of this day."
 
He looked at her.  "Like what?"
 
She faced him defiantly.  "Kiss me," she said.  "Just once.  Like you mean it. 
Like I was three years older.  Like I mean something to you."
 
"Missy ... " he said helplessly.  "I ..."
 
Tears were spilling from her eyes, running down her cheeks.  "I
might die today, Dean!" she shouted.  "You might die!  And all I want is one
little kiss!  Is that too much to ask?"
 
He took a deep breath.  "No.  No, it's not."  He stepped toward her.  She
opened her arms; they embraced.  She tilted her face up toward his; he leaned
down toward her.
 
She closed her eyes just before their lips met.
 
She had never been properly kissed by a boy before.  Dean knew how to kiss, and
applied everything he knew.  By the time he finished, she was sagging at the
knees.
 
"Are you all right?" he asked in mild concern.
 
"Hell yeah," she replied with a woozy giggle. "If I'd known you could kiss
like that, I would've held out for a quickie."
 
"What - sex?" asked Dean disbelievingly.  
 
She nodded seriously.  "Well, yeah.  Why not?  We could either or both of us be
dead tomorrow.  What the hell does it matter if I’m still a virgin then?"
 
He frowned.  "You're joking, right?"
 
She nodded and grinned.  "Yeah.  Joking. Right."
 
He knew she wasn't.  She feels that strongly about me. And she hadn't been a
bad kisser either.
 
I might look into re-evaluating our relationship after this.
 
Out loud he said, " Well, you got your kiss. Can we go now?"
 
She grinned happily at him.  "Oh, definitely."
 
And as they set off again, Dean could not help but note a certain spring in
Missy's step, that had been missing before.
 
***
 
Miss Militia looked up as the purple-brown smoke billowed.  "Oh good," she
said. "It's you."
 
They stood in what they presumed to be the staging area, a hotel not far from
the Boardwalk.  Grue turned to Pathfinder.  "I see Bitch over there, with
Armsmaster.  You go do what you need to do."
 
Pathfinder nodded.  "Take care," he said.
 
Compass Rose looked at Miss Militia. "We're doing mass transit now, search and
rescue later?"
 
"Unless we can replicate Dragon Drop with Leviathan," the gun-toting woman
noted.
 
"Can't see it," commented Pathfinder. "Unless ..."  He offered a suggestion.
 
Miss Militia blinked.  "You think you can pull that off?"
 
Pathfinder shrugged.  "Don't know till I try."
 
Miss Militia nodded.  "I'll get on to Dragon about it.  In the meantime, teams
are gathering.  I'll have pictures of the team leaders sent to your phone."
 
"Thanks," acknowledged Compass Rose.  She looked up at her father.  "Let's make
ourselves useful."
 
***
 
The members of New Wave gathered in the Dallons’ living room.  There was a
tension in the air; Panacea was as far away from Brandish as possible. Glory
Girl stood with one arm around her sister's shoulders, ignoring her mother's
glares.
 
"So how are we getting to the staging point?" asked Manpower.
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed, then dissipated.  Two figures were standing there.
 
“… and question asked and answered,” he continued.  “Compass Rose and
Pathfinder, I presume?”
 
“That’s us,” replied the helmeted girl.  “Hi, Amy, Vicky.”
 
“Hi,” said Amy faintly.  Vicky nodded a greeting.
 
"Can you handle all of us at once?" asked Shielder.
 
Compass Rose chuckled.  “Don’t believe the media whitewash.  Hold tight.”
 
Everyone was holding on to someone else.  Purple-brown smoke billowed, and then
dissipated.  They were in the staging area.  There hadn’t even been a jolt.
 
“Panacea is going on to the hospital, I presume?” asked Pathfinder.
 
Amy nodded, gave Vicky one last hug, as well as a quick kiss, and then moved
over to take Compass Rose’s hand.
 
Smoke billowed, and then dissipated.  They were gone.
 
***
 
“What’s the matter?” asked Compass Rose.
 
Amy hung her head.  “Mom – Carol – caught me and Vicky, in the act.”
 
Compass Rose hugged her.  “I’m so sorry.  What happened?”
 
“I’m being kicked out after all this is over.”
 
Pathfinder put a hand on Amy’s shoulder.  “If you need a place, we can get a
spare bed and you can share a room with Aisha.”
 
“Oh, uh, Vicky was talking about moving out with me?” ventured Amy.  Who’s
Aisha? she wondered.
 
Compass Rose and Pathfinder shared a quick glance.  “We can handle it,” said
Pathfinder.  “For now – good luck.” 
 
Compass Rose consulted her phone, and they were gone again, in the trademark
billow of smoke.
 
Panacea cleared her throat, rolled up her sleeves, and went to help the medics
prep for incoming.
 
***
 
Compass Rose and Pathfinder ranged across the nation, across the world,
bringing in cape teams to help fight the Endbringer known as Leviathan.  The
staging area quickly filled up.  They quickly dropped into a routine, and were
delivering new teams about once every ten seconds.
 
And then the Endbringer himself arrived.
 
***
 
They were bringing in one of the last groups to volunteer, a bunch of
Australians oddly named the Ayers Rock Surf Club.  At the last instant before
Pathfinder initiated the jump, Compass Rose found her focus point – Legend –
had moved dramatically. She refocused, and the group appeared safely, although
ankle-deep in water.
 
“Struth,” commented Bluey, a massive red-headed man who carried a sledgehammer
like a child’s toy.  “Bloody wet season came early.”
 
“Leviathan,” said Pathfinder by way of explanation, then they went again, to
the top of the PRT tower.
 
Pathfinder pressed both buttons on the wristband he had been given.
 
“Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  Capes all present and accounted for.  Ready for
search and rescue duties.”
 
A synthesised voice came from the small speaker.  “Roger, Pathfinder.  Roger,
Compass Rose. Stand by.”
 
There was a pause barely long enough to catch a breath.  
 
“You okay, kiddo?” asked Pathfinder.  He unhooked the part of his mask that
covered his lower face, and they kissed, gently, tenderly, sharing the love and
closeness that having their powers had given them.
 
“Horny as hell,” confessed Compass Rose.  “I want you to take me somewhere dry
and make love to me until my eyes cross.”
 
Pathfinder chuckled and refastened his mask.  “After this,” he promised.  “It’s
a date.”
 
And then the synthesised voice began to reel off names. As had been arranged,
they showed up as text on Compass Rose’s wristband.  Only the injured showed up
in her text.  Only the ones who would benefit from rescue.
 
Carapacitator down, CD-5.  
Krieg down, CD-5.  
Iron Falcon down, CD-5.  
Saurian down, CD-5...
 
They clasped hands.  Purple-brown smoke billowed.  When it dissipated, as much
washed away by the torrential rain as blown by the wind, they were gone.
 
***
 
“You and you!” shouted Panacea.  “You’re in charge of the gurneys!  Always have
one there!  Right in that spot!  Have one ready to put in its place!  If you
haven’t got one, get a stretcher!  Our wounded will be arriving there!”
 
She drew a deep breath, and began to work on healing Carapacitor.  He’d taken a
hard hit, but he was still alive.
 
Even as she did so, the familiar billow of smoke heralded another arrival. 
Kreig lay on the ‘incoming’ gurney.  The volunteer orderlies hustled it out of
the way, and put another in its place. Amy hastily finished with Carapacitor,
and turned to Kreig.
 
One after another, they arrived, and one after another she healed them. 
Sometimes it was all she could do to stabilise them and make sure they’d
survive.  Other times, she was able to completely fix an injury; they would tap
their wristbands and request  pickup.
 
She was worked off her feet, barely able to snatch a bite to eat or a sip to
drink in between patients.  But there were others there, and it was possible to
see that they were making headway.  And it could have been worse.  Much, much
worse.
 
***
 
“Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  Message from Miss Militia.  Dragon says all
done.”
 
Sham down, CD-5.  
Harsh Mistress down, CD-5.  
Woebegone down, CD-5…
 
Compass Rose depressed two buttons, even as Pathfinder took them to Sham.  He
grabbed the cape, they went again before she was able to speak.  The gurney was
there; Sham landed on it from six inches up.
 
She focused on Harsh Mistress, sent the location to her father, as she spoke
out loud.
 
“Need a location, a landmark, a name.  Something to focus on.”
 
Harsh Mistress was trying to struggle to her feet, her left arm nearly severed
at the shoulder.  They took her to where Panacea was working, disappeared
again.
 
Woebegone was done before the answer came through.  “It is called the Desperate
Hope.”
 
Pathfinder depressed two buttons.  “Pathfinder and Compass Rose signing off
from search and rescue for the moment.”
 
“Roger.  Signing off from search and rescue, Pathfinder and Compass Rose.”
 
Taylor focused on the name Desperate Hope, and the image swam into view of an
ungainly-looking craft sitting on a concrete apron outside a large hangar.
 
She drove the information into Danny’s mind, and they teleported.
 
***
 
It was late afternoon in Vancouver, and the sun was shining through the trees. 
It wasn’t raining.
 
As they approached the craft, a side hatch slid open. Pathfinder climbed in
first; Compass Rose followed.
 
What we need is a craft ...
 
The rear seat had been designed specifically to Pathfinder’s specifications. 
He settled into it, and  did up his belt.  Compass Rose straddled him, and he
did up more belts which held her in place.  They fitted together like a three-
dimensional jigsaw puzzle.
 
... lets her sit on my lap in safety and comfort ...
 
Clasped hands.
 
She focused on Miss Militia.
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed across the concrete apron.
 
When the gentle breeze wafted it away, there was nothing there.
 
***
 
Miss Militia gritted her teeth and upgraded her weapon again. What does it take
to hurt this thing? 
“Miss Militia.  Dragon craft Desperate Hope incoming.”
She looked around.  There was a massive burst of smoke, and a huge craft
splashed to the roadway beside her.  A hatch slid open.
 
“We need a pilot!” yelled Pathfinder.
 
Hannah shrugged and holstered the pistol.  Let’s see if Danny’s crazy idea
works.
She climbed on board.  As she settled into the pilot’s seat, she keyed her
wristband.
 
“Miss Militia in craft with Pathfinder and Compass Rose. Do not engage.”
 
“Roger.  Message relayed.”
Fastening the five-point restraints, she took the controls and heaved the craft
into the air.  It was ungainly, and the thrusters had a totally different sound
to what she was normally used to.
 
... flying by rockets, not jets, for reasons which will shortly become obvious
...
 
A large set of dragon-claw style grapples folded under the craft; when she gave
the command, it would take hold of Leviathan.  She hoped the craft had been
built sturdily enough to take the kind of punishment that the Endbringer could
dish out.
 
... redundant seals and an air supply ...
 
***
 
In the rear seat, Pathfinder faced Compass Rose.
 
“You talked about having sex in one of these, before,” he said with a grin.
 
“And you said you’d have to remove some clothing,” she reminded him.
 
“Well,” he told her.  “Now’s the time.”
 
And one puff of purple-brown smoke later, and they were both entirely,
gloriously, naked.
 
Her crotch was already pressed against his manhood, which was half-hard from
the contact.  She ground it harder.  He groaned.
 
She wrapped her hands around him and kissed him, hard.  His penis stood up
between them, hard and strong.
 
“Let me know when you’re ready!” yelled Miss Militia from the front seat.
 
“One moment!” called Pathfinder.  He loosened Compass Rose’s belt, and she rose
up, to accept his erection between her labia.  She bore down, and he slid into
her.  
 
He tightened her belts, then clasped her delightfully rounded buttocks, and
commenced to make love to her.
 
She held him tightly and ground herself up and down his length, moaning with
the building sensations.
 
“He’s about to break through the line!” shouted Miss Militia, fighting to
jockey the ungainly craft through the howling storm.
 
Danny reached down between them and pinched Taylor’s clitoris. “Now!” he
yelled.
 
Taylor started to orgasm; her vaginal canal clenched around Danny’s thrusing
penis.  He held her hips tightly, driving his erect cock hard into her.
 
“Gonna fuck your ass so hard,” he ground out.  “Gonna hold you down and make
you cum until you scream...”
 
Lowering his mouth, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, and bit down on it.
 
She screamed, and came again, arching her back against the straps, pushing
herself hard onto his throbbing erection.
 
He felt her orgasm, and began to cum himself, jetting wad after wad into her
pulsating womb ...
 
***
 
The prototype Dragon craft lurched down through the storm like a dying duck,
its thrusters howling in protest.  It slammed into Leviathan, metallic claws
latching on to the monstrosity.
 
Leviathan whipped around, his tail smashing at the body of the craft, clawed
hands already reaching ...
 
***
 
“Now!” screamed Miss Militia.
 
Danny, in the throes of orgasm, reached deep into the contact between himself
and Taylor, and drew from it the strength he needed for this monumental task.
 
At no other point were they closer, could they do so much with their combined
powers.
 
Taylor had the location.  She gave it to Danny.
 
He activated his power.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed across the battlefield.
 
When it faded ... Leviathan was gone.
 
So was the odd craft.
 
The teeming rain began to ease off.
 
***
 
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and the clawed hand crashed into a viewport. 
Cracks radiated, but the specially toughened material did not fracture.
 
The grapple claws opened, and thrust Leviathan away from the craft.
 
He fell toward the grey-brown landscape below, but at the last moment, his
prehensile tail whipped around and latched on to one of the arms. Miss Militia
didn’t hesitate; she slapped the JETTISON ARMS button.  Explosive bolts fired;
the arms fell free.
 
And with them, Leviathan.
 
***
 
Writhing, twisting, raging, the Endbringer fell.  Slowly, so slowly.  Trailing
streamers of water that evaporated or froze in odd sculptures that fell in
their own turn.
 
He hit, rolled on the powdery surface, came to his feet. Looked up, toward the
craft overhead, limping away on three of six lifting rockets.
 
Water was beginning to boil off of him in the vacuum, but he followed, his
footprints left behind on the surface of the Moon.
 
***
 
Miss Militia wrestled with the controls.  Half the rockets had been damaged or
destroyed, and she was lucky they were at one-sixth gee, or the craft would
have crashed by now.  As it was, they had limited fuel.  And a look at the
belly cam showed that Leviathan was pacing them, even as water vapour boiled
off him in sheets.
 
If we land ... we’re toast.
 
“Danny!” she shouted.  “Taylor!  Wake up!”
 
A glance over her shoulder showed her that they were still unconscious, still
entwined.  She couldn’t see Taylor’s face, but Danny had blood coming from his
nostrils.
 
Never a good sign.
 
The autopilot was dodgy at best, but she set it and unstrapped. Moving
unsteadily in the lighter gravity, she pulled herself over the back of her seat
into the rear cockpit area.
 
Pathfinder jumped us from the Earth to the Moon, with Leviathan in tow.  I
would never have believed it possible.  But did it kill them?

Her questing hands found pulses, strong and steady in both of them.
 
“Danny!” she shouted.  She slapped him, pinched a nipple.  He stirred, groaned.
 
“Taylor!” she yelled.  Grabbing one of the younger girl’s breasts, she squeezed
it as hard as she could.  Taylor moaned, moved.
 
Their eyes fluttered open, just as the craft lurched, along with a blaring
siren.
 
“We’re out of time!” she shouted.  “We’re crashing!  You’ve got to get us out
of here!”
 
Pathfinder coughed.  “Can’t ... move ... whole ... thing.”
 
Compass Rose moved her hips.  She kissed her father on the lips.
 
“We’ve got to try,” she rasped.
 
“Just ... us,” he said.  “Miss ... Militia ... too.”
 
Miss Militia looked out the viewport.  The craft was settling toward the
ground.  Leviathan was leaping.  
 
“Go!” she yelled, grabbing hold of Taylor.
 
They went.
 
***
 
The storm clouds were dissipating.  Search and rescue operations were under
way.  The damage had been terrible, the casualties horrible ... but far less
than projected.
 
Panacea stopped, wiped her forehead with her sleeve, and looked around for the
next casualty.
 
There were none.
 
“That’s it?” she asked.  “It’s over?”
 
One of the orderlies, a woman, shrugged.
 
A TV at the end of the ward buzzed to life.  People started wandering over to
watch it.
 
It told a fantastic story, of a Hail Mary pass, performed by the cape duo
Pathfinder and Compass Rose.  Of a craft specially devised and built on the fly
by Dragon, piloted by the redoubtable Miss Militia.  Flying through the storm. 
Engaging Leviathan in close combat.
 
And then Pathfinder and Compass Rose exhibiting the true level of their powers.
 
Teleporting the monster all the way to the Moon.
 
Telescopes already trained on the creature noted that it had not moved in the
last hour.  It was dead or dormant.  Either way, it wasn’t coming back any time
soon.
 
Panacea raised a cheer with the rest of the people in the ward, but the
question nagging at the back of her mind was also raised on the screen.
 
“Did our brave heroes survive, or did they sacrifice themselves in saving us?”
 
***
 
Hannah poised herself on all fours on the edge of the bed, her naked posterior
thrust out enticingly toward Danny.
 
“Are you sure?” he asked her.  His hands caressed her rounded dark-skinned
globes, rubbing in lubricant.  A finger slid into her tightest hole and she
drew her breath in sharply.  Lying in front of her, Taylor caressed her firm
breasts, and raised up on one elbow to kiss her.  Hannah returned the kiss,
then looked over her shoulder.
 
“Not particularly, Danny, but I’m willing to try it with you. You saved my
life.  You saved many lives.  And so, your reward.  No-one else has done this
with me.”
 
“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” grinned Taylor, pulling her head down for another
kiss.
 
Hannah smiled, and lifted one hand to caress Taylor’s naked breasts.  “I will
certainly try to do so,” she murmured.
 
Behind her, Danny took hold of her hips, and slowly began to slide his long
penis in between her firm buttocks.
 
***
 
“I’ve just got one question,” grunted Miss Militia, as Danny thrust hard into
her.  “Why did I have to arrive naked?”
 
Taylor grinned and kissed her again.  “We had to save weight, obviously.”
 
Hannah braced herself and thrust back at Danny.  “Right,” she groaned.  “Stupid
question.”
 
And then she gave herself entirely over to the pleasure.
 
***** Celebratory Sex *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny and Taylor indulge in a glad-to-be-alive threesome with Hannah.
The Desperate Hope tumbled lazily toward the lunar surface.  Leviathan gathered
himself, leaped, heading arrow-straight toward the broken ship.  Taylor lifted
herself off of Danny's rigidly erect penis, then settled her ass on top of his
straining erection.  They kissed, passionately, as her buttocks parted, and she
slid down upon him, engulfing him, impaling her anal passage upon the long
shaft.
 
Her delicate labia, still swollen with their passion, still coated with the
secretions of her arousal, came to rest against his scratchy pubic hair.  She
clenched herself around him, making him groan.
 
Leviathan slammed into the dying craft like a thunderbolt, claws raking,
popping panels. A viewport shattered; air spilled. Alarms shrieked, sounding
high and tinny in the rapidly-reducing pressure.  Danny grasped Miss Militia's
hand, kissed Taylor ... and teleported.
 
Leviathan tore the Desperate Hope apart in a rage of destruction, but all they
left behind was a rapidly-dissipating cloud of purple-brown smoke, and Miss
Militia's costume.
 
And then the craft exploded.  It didn’t harm Leviathan much, but it was nice as
a final fuck-you.
 
***
 
They fell out of a cloud of purple-brown smoke, hit a yielding surface, and
bounced.
 
Miss Militia, her senses still dazed by the sudden shift from low air pressure
to high, from noise and fury to relative silence, looked around with vague
puzzlement.
 
"Where are we?" she asked.  "I know this place."
 
Taylor groaned; Miss Militia looked around.  The teenage girl was on her back
with her legs around Danny’s waist. He was working his long erection in and out
of her tightly-gripping rear passage.  Taylor groaned again; it was a sound of
arousal, of lust, of sheer carnal desire.
 
Danny looked up at Miss Militia.
 
“We’re home, Hannah,” he said with a grin.  “Remember?”
 
She looked around again, and this time she did remember.  It was all so
familiar now; the bed they were all lying on, the room with the closets, the
passageway outside.  The familiarity was extended by Danny’s nakedness, and her
own.
 
“Wait,” she said.  “Why am I naked?”
 
Taylor’s head twisted around to stare at her.  “You’re naked?” she asked. 
“Holy crap, you’re naked.  Dad, why are you fucking me?  You should be giving
Hannah some.  You’ve already come in me a bunch today.”
 
Danny smiled down at Taylor, and kissed her.  She wrapped her arms around him,
and kissed him back, hard.  After they disengaged, he slowly, erotically,
pulled his long erection from Taylor’s overstretched rectum.  Hannah watched,
fascinated, as he slowly unsheathed himself from within his daughter’s anal
passage.
 
Erection still wet and shiny from the recent coupling, he got up on his knees
and reached out to take her hand.  “Are you still up for that threesome?” he
asked her.
 
She blinked, uncertain.  “I should call in, let them know we’re alive –“ she
ventured.
 
“Hey,” he said with a carefree grin.  “Let ‘em mourn their fallen heroes for
another couple hours.  Or days.  They aren’t gonna need us right this very
second, right?  We’re off the clock.”  His eyes travelled up and down her taut,
firm body.  “And I’ve been meaning to get back to you about a return
engagement.”
 
She felt herself growing warm with his appreciation, and with the proximity of
his naked body.  Not to mention the still-rampant penis with which he was
facing her.
 
“Taylor,” she said slowly.  “Are you all right with your father and I –“
 
Taylor grinned.  “Hannah,” she said.  “If Dad wants to have sex with you, I say
go for it.  I know he’ll always come back to me.  But there was mention of a
threesome, and that interests me.”
 
Hannah blinked again.  “I – you know I’m straight.  I just –“
 
“ – offered it as an inducement for getting Dad into bed, I know,” Taylor
agreed. “I’ve never done anything with a woman before either.  But I’m willing
to learn.  And I’ve heard that threesomes can be lots of fun.  Also, Amy and
Vicky seem to enjoy kissing each other a lot, so I’m getting the impression
that girl-girl loving has something going for it.  So hey, let’s give it a
try.”
 
She rolled over and sat up, legs crossed.  Her labia were parted, and a slight
ooze of white crept out of her somewhat reddened vaginal opening.  Her breasts
weren’t full enough to bob, but they were definitely more mature than when
Hannah first met her.
 
“So what do you say?” asked Taylor softly.  “Wanna try for a kiss?  See how it
rolls?”
 
Hannah tilted her head to one side.  She was almost exactly twice Taylor’s age,
but she suspected that the girl before her had had more sexual experience, in
the short time she had been illicitly copulating with her father, than Hannah
had in her entire life.  
 
It was basically the fault of her powers; she had triggered so young that she
had powers before she had entered puberty.  She had dated Chevalier a few times
during her early days in the Wards, and had a few other love interests since
then, but nothing serious.  She had made a point of losing her virginity to one
of her nicer boyfriends, just to see what it was about, but had found it to be
no great shakes.  Since then, she had engaged in sex every now and again, but
it had really not been a priority for her.  Until, that is, she had met Danny.
 
The man had engaged her, on every level.  He was a hero, he was physically
attractive, and he knew how to please a woman. The sex she had enjoyed with
him, after the event with Lung, had driven her out of her mind with pleasure. 
She really, truly, wanted to do that with him again.  And her offer to share
with Taylor was genuine; it just had not occurred to her that she may have to
share her body with Taylor as well.
 
“Well,” she said lightly.  “I may as well.”  She smiled warmly at the younger
girl.  “I’ve had offers from women before, but I’ve never taken them up.  So
you should feel honoured.”
 
“Honoured, huh?” grinned Taylor.  She rose up on to her knees, ignoring the
trickle of white that was now inching down between her thighs, and shuffled
over to Miss Militia.  “Let’s see how honoured I feel after the fact.”
 
Hannah was still mostly reclined, and Taylor pushed her back gently on to the
bed.  Her hair brushed Hannah’s breasts as she crawled on top of the older
woman. Their skin, light-coloured against dark coffee, moved smoothly,
sensuously, against each other.
 
Taylor lowered her face to Hannah’s.  Their breasts pressed together,
deforming, squashing, erotically.  Danny watched, fascinated.  His erection was
not going down.
 
Hannah had always found her men to be demanding, taking charge.  Kissing
forcefully, as if they could impress their manhood, their masculinity upon her
with their kisses. Danny had been a little different. He had asked as well as
given, allowing her to enjoy the kiss at her own rate.  It was part of why she
was so enamoured with his bedroom technique.
 
Taylor’s kiss was different again.  Despite the fact that she was on top, was
the dominant partner in the kiss, she was delicate, gentle, sweet.   Her lips
lingered on Hannah’s, tasting, teasing, enjoying the sensation.
 
And so was Hannah, she realised.  She felt herself responding, wrapping her
arms around Taylor’s neck, kissing her back, feeling her tongue protruding
through, meeting Taylor’s tongue, their lips meeting, sealing.
 
Taylor’s body, moving against hers, their breasts pressing, Taylor’s thigh
between hers, rubbing.  She rubbed her own thigh between Taylor’s legs; Taylor
moaned into the kiss, and pressed down hard upon her.
 
Their arms fully about one another, the kiss was complete.  They embraced, and
moved their bodies against one another, while their lips pressed and their
tongues duelled. They rolled across the bed, until Hannah was on top.  She
broke the kiss and lifted herself up a little, breathing heavily, eyes hot and
heavy-lidded.  Then she kissed Taylor again, this time as hard and forcefully
as any man had kissed her.
 
Taylor responded avidly, accepting the kiss, the domination, letting Hannah
take the lead, melting into her embrace.  Letting Hannah be in charge. 
Enjoying being the one being controlled.
 
Hannah was shaken by the intensity of the sensations she was feeling.  She had
always thought she was straight.  Women’s bodies had never interested her,
except in the aesthetic. But this kiss, this embrace, the body moving against
hers … it was all driving her to a fever pitch of arousal.
 
Perhaps, some small analytical part of her mind mused, it was due partly to the
escape they had made from certain death.  That tended to reduce inhibitions. 
But she didn’t care, didn’t really want to know. All she knew was that she was
kissing Taylor Hebert, and was being kissed back by her, and it was one of the
most erotic sensations that she had ever undergone in her life.
 
One of the most.  Not the most. This was brought home to her when a third hand
began to stroke her back and buttocks, and lips began nibbling at her neck. 
She stiffened, but did not stop kissing Taylor, as Danny caressed her, touching
her in places that sent shafts of blazing fire right to the centre of her
being.
 
He kept it up, teasing her, titillating her, reaching between her spread thighs
– just as Taylor moved her leg away – to gently rub at her labia, to excite her
upstanding clitoris.  She felt him lifting her hips, so that she was up on her
knees, and suddenly, he was between her legs, licking at her, applying his
talented tongue to her labia.
 
She kissed Taylor harder than ever then, feeling the younger girl’s nails
digging into her back, feeling Danny’s attentions bringing her body to a fine
boil of sexual need.  When she felt his penis sliding between her labia, into
her wet and willing womanhood, she could have cried with the release.  His
hands gripped her hips as he slowly penetrated her, stretching her vaginal
canal, oh so erotically.
 
Slowly, gently, he entered her, thrusting into her, deeper and deeper with each
push.  She felt him take her, conquer her, fill her with his erect manhood,
until his pubic hair pressed against her buttocks.  And then he began to slide
in and out of her.
 
Taylor seemed to be getting just as much out of this as Hannah was, and she
suddenly realised why.  Through the body contact that she had with her father,
Taylor was feeling the pleasure that Danny wa feeling, with his penis inside
Hannah. Her kisses were certainly not becoming less avid; if anything, they
were more so by the moment.  And as Danny pumped his rampant erection deep into
Hannah’s slippery wetness, both Hannah and Taylor became more excited, more
aroused.
 
Hannah felt Taylor’s fingers on her clitoris, and she bit Taylor’s lip as she
came.  She felt Danny redouble his tempo as his daughter became substantially
more aroused – he gets the feedback from her, of course – and she felt
fireworks going off in her mind as she launched into her second orgasm of the
day.
 
The third orgasm came as Danny pulled her hard on to him – an erotic sensation
that nearly made her eyes bulge – and came hard inside her, thrusting almost
brutally into her, shooting wad after wad of cum deep inside her quivering,
pulsating vagina.
 
Taylor came at the same time, with two of Miss Militia’s fingers jammed deep
into her throughly wet pussy, and Hannah’s teeth nipping the skin of her neck. 
Danny seemed to take forever to finish climaxing, thrusting into her long after
he had finished ejaculating.  Hannah’s eyes rolled back into her head as she
felt the orgasm blasting through her, finally collapsing on top of Taylor as
Danny’s thrusting ceased.
 
Danny pulled out of her, allowing her to roll off Taylor on to her back, and
lie there, panting.  Taylor was no less affected, and Danny was also sheened
with sweat.
 
“Allah preserve us,” she said softly, in her own language.  She very rarely
used it these days, and even more rarely swore in it, but this seemed to be an
appropriate time. She turned her head to where Danny was reclining beside her. 
“I did not think that a threesome could be so rewarding.  Thank you.”
 
He rolled up slightly, so that he could kiss her, gently and tenderly.  “No,”
he said.  “Thank you, for suggesting this. I didn’t think it could work. You
just proved me wrong.”
 
Taylor snuggled up beside her, an arm lying over her waist.  Not particularly
erotic, but very sensual, very enjoyable.  “That was awesome,” she murmured in
Hannah’s ear.  “Normally, I get what Dad’s doing to me, and what I’m doing to
Dad, as a sort of stereo effect.  But this time, I got what you were doing to
Dad, and what you were doing to me, and it was totally different, and it drove
me all kinds of insane.  In a really, really good way.”
 
Hannah smiled, and kissed Danny back, then turned her head to kiss Taylor as
well.  “Thank you, both of you,” she said.  “For giving me this chance.  For
showing me that I can love and be loved by women.”  She kissed Taylor again,
and felt the girl’s lips respond, warmly, sensuously.  “But I suspect that it
is just you that I enjoy this with.”
 
“Hey,” said Taylor, lifting herself so that her head rested on Hannah’s
breasts.  “I really, really enjoyed that too.  Even before Dad started doing
his thing with you.”
 
Hannah caressed her cheek, brushing the hair back from her face.  “I enjoyed it
also, Taylor darling.  I would really enjoy doing it another time with the both
of you.”  The warm feeling in her body, the afterglow, was so beautiful. She
could have cried with the intensity of the love she felt for both of them.
 
“Another time?” asked Danny with a grin.  “What’s wrong with today?  Now?”  His
hand slid suggestively across her stomach.
 
“Now?” asked Hannah, with a jolt of arousal. “I … I assumed you would want to
go back to making love with Taylor.”
 
He teased her face around to him, and kissed her again. “I wouldn’t do that to
you, Hannah,” he said softly.  “You’re our guest.  I wouldn’t neglect you.”
 
“And I really want to try out this threesome thing some more,” put in Taylor. 
She turned her head slightly, and caught Hannah’s fingers in her mouth, and
suckled on them gently.
 
“Oh,” said Hannah.  “Oh.”  She looked at Danny. “What did you have in mind?”
 
***
 
Hannah looked askance at the shower cubicle. “Are you sure we’ll all fit?” she
asked dubiously.
 
“Well, once Dad gets his penis into one or the other of us two, sure,” said
Taylor with a giggle.  “I mean, when it’s out and about, it’s a menace to
society, but up inside me or you, we’ve got it under control.”
 
Hannah had to smother a laugh.  “That’s an … interesting view,” she said.  She
looked down with respect at Danny’s manhood, already visibly coming to full
hardness once more.  “So … who gets his penis this time?  It is sort of your
turn …”
 
“Only if you want to put something into me from behind,” Taylor decided. 
“Either that, or you wrap your legs around his waist, and I play with your
ass.”
 
“I don’t see how you can fit that into your butt,” Hannah commented.  “I’ve had
guys try to put it in there, but I’ve never let them.  It sounds painful.”
 
“If you’re not ready, or not lubricated enough, or both, sure,” agreed Taylor. 
“The first time we tried, it was just too painful.  I was tense, and Dad wasn’t
sure, so we gave it up and fucked the normal way.  But after Dad saved me from
the locker, I slathered on the lube, and opened up for him, and he fitted.
Just, but he fitted.”
 
“You didn’t use lube this last time,” Hannah noted. “Didn’t that hurt?”
 
Taylor grinned and shook her head.  “When Panacea did her number on me, I asked
her to make my butt more elastic and more sensitive than it had been before. 
So Dad can put it into my ass as hard and as often as he likes, and it only
gets a little sore.”
 
Hannah burst out laughing.  “So that’s what that was all about.”
 
Taylor grinned and nodded, and caressed her ass. “So, you want to play with my
ass while he fucks me, or you want me to play with your ass while he fucks
you?”
 
“Hey,” said Danny.  “Don’t I get a say in who I get to have sex with?”
 
Taylor and Hannah looked at him.  “No,” they said in unison, then giggled.
 
Hannah caressed Taylor’s naked body; Taylor’s hand found Hannah’s firm breast,
and squeezed it gently.
 
“What I would like to see …” said Hannah slowly, “is your dad putting it in
your ass, while you eat my pussy.”
 
“Mmmm,” murmured Taylor rubbing her body sensually against Hannah’s.  “I think
I’d like that too.”  She glanced at her father.  “Dad?”
 
“Hey,” said Danny.  “Any day I get to put my cock in your ass is a good day.”
 
“And afterward,” said Taylor, “we can see if you like it in the ass yourself.”
 
Hannah blinked.  “Wait, what?”
 
Taylor smiled and kissed her, very thoroughly indeed. Hanna responded, her arms
going around Taylor, caressing her body.
 
“I said,” murmured Taylor, after they broke off the kiss, “we could see if you
like Dad’s penis in your ass as much as I do.”
 
“Mmm,” replied Hannah.  “We could definitely try that out.”
 
***
 
The threesome in the shower cubicle was not an easy one to arrange.  In the
end, Hannah lay down on the floor of the tub, and Taylor assumed a sixy-nine
position above her.  This suited them both admirably; neither one was an expert
at cunnilingus, but they were both quite happy to learn.
 
And then, as Hannah felt Taylor’s tongue begin to explore her already-wet sex,
and began to do her own erotic explorations, she watched Danny’s long penis,
glistening with droplets from the shower, begin to slide between Taylor’s
shapely buttocks.  Taylor’s tight anal pucker opened at the prodding from
Danny’s cock, and then stretched to accommodate him.  
 
Her very buttocks were spread apart; Hannah watched with fascination as inch
after inch of his rampant erection penetrated Taylor’s rear end, to her obvious
enjoyment and delight.  It was, she was surprised to realise, a very erotic
sight.
 
And then he began to pump in and out of her, even as Hannah paid close and
personal attention to her slippery-wet vagina, lapping up her juices and
driving her wild with soft tongue-touches everywhere she thought Taylor needed
it.
 
Taylor could not believe how good this felt. It was wild enough, having Danny
driving his cock deep into her rectal passage with every stroke, striking
sparks of pleasure all the way up her backbone.  But to have Hannah’s talented
tongue and lips doing a number on her vagina, sucking on her clitoris, eating
her, devouring her, driving her wild with desire, at the same time … it
was incredible.
 
She felt her father tighten his hold on her hips, and then begin to really
drive the point home.  Her ass clenched around him as he forced himself between
her buttocks, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, ramming himself up inside
her secret depths, until her eyes nearly crossed with the sensations.  And
still Hannah did those wonderful, perverted, amazing things to her vagina, her
labia, her clitoris.
 
Hannah felt Taylor arching her back in orgasm, felt her muffled cry even as her
mouth was pressed between Hannah’s widely-spread thighs.  Hannah was already
throughly aroused from watching Danny sodomise his daughter, and when Taylor
began to ravage her clitoris with lips and tongue and teeth, it was the last
straw.  She nearly lifted off the floor of the tub with the force of her
orgasm.
 
Taylor tasted the sudden rush of Hannah’s secretions, felt and heard her
climax, just before Danny rammed even harder into her abused ass than before,
and unleashed a series of searing spurts of hot white semen deep into her
bowels.  She came again, of course, which increased his own orgasmic pleasure,
which meant that he did not cease thrusting for quite some time.
 
Afterward, it took quite some time for either Hannah or Taylor to get up from
the floor of the tub.  In the end, Danny had to help them up, where they clung
to him and to each other, still shuddering with the power of the mutual orgasm
they had just shared.
 
***
 
Still naked, but dried off, they trooped downstairs. There was food cooking on
the stove, on the point of burning; Taylor turned the heat down to a simmer. 
She got food out of the fridge, cold meat and salad, and they had a scratch
meal.
 
Miss Militia looked at Danny and then at Taylor, even as she used a large
hunting knife to cut her meat.  “I …” she began.  “With you two, I … things are
different.  You aren’t just friends.  Not just colleagues, either.  You’re
more.  Lovers.  Closer.  Harder to think about objectively.”
 
Taylor reached over and took her hand.  Hannah stared at her.  Taylor smiled. 
“Dad likes you.  A lot,” she said.  “And so, I like you, a lot.  It’s how we
roll.”  She clasped Hannah’s hand between hers, warmly.  “I want to do this
with you, more,” she said.  “With or without Dad, to be honest.  You’re the
first woman I’ve ever kissed, the first woman I’ve ever made love with, and I’m
really enjoying it.”
 
She grinned over at her father.  “And before you say anything, you know darn
well that I’ll always come back to you.  What you do for me is beyond belief. 
Amazing. Astounding.  But Hannah does something for me, too.  In a different
way.  Not as intense, but still something I want to do more of.”
 
Danny grinned back.  “Wasn’t gonna say a word, kiddo.  I’m enjoying this too
much.”
 
Taylor leaned over and kissed Miss Militia; the dark-skinned woman kissed her
back, with every sign of enjoyment.  Neither of them heard the muted squeal as
the truck pulled up at the curb.
 
Danny only registered the sound of the key in the lock at the very last
moment.  He stood, reached out, grabbed Taylor’s arm.  As the front door
opened, purple-brown smoke billowed in the kitchen.
 
They landed on the bed, Taylor and Hannah still engaged in their kiss.
 
***
 
Brian opened the front door, then stepped aside for Aisha.  He closed the door
as the truck started off again, and guided his little sister through to the
living room. They sat on the sofa, Aisha openly crying.
 
“They could have gotten out of there,” he tried to console her.  “They didn’t
see any bodies in the telescopes.”
 
“The fucking thing exploded!” she sobbed. “They’re dead!  The only people who
ever did any shit nice for us, and they’re fucking dead!”
 
“Look,” he said, “I’ll fix you something to eat. Maybe you’ll feel better after
that.”
 
“Whatever,” she said quietly, curling up on the sofa in a tight ball of
misery.  “Knock yourself out.”
 
He sighed, patted her on the shoulder, and got up to go into the kitchen.  At
the kitchen door, he paused, frowning.
 
“Aish,” he called back over his shoulder, “we weren’t eating a meal when the
sirens went off, were we?”
 
“No,” came the muffled reply.  “You were cooking some shit, though.”
 
He looked at the stove.  The heat had been turned down.  “Well, fuck.”
 
He looked back at the table, with three half-eaten meals on it.  “Well, double
fuck.”
 
The back door was still locked.  The front door had been locked when they came
in.  And then he tilted his head.  Danny’s bedroom was directly under the
kitchen. And directly overhead, he could faintly hear the sound of bedsprings
creaking, and tiny cries of pleasure.
 
A broad grin crossed his face.  He exited the kitchen, strolled over to where
Aisha was still curled up on the sofa.
 
“Hey,” he said softly.  “Guess what?”
 
“What?” she snapped, still sniffling.
 
“Guess who’s upstairs, getting it on, right now?”
 
Her head snapped around and she stared at him. “You’re shitting me,” she said.
 
He shook his head with a grin.  “Fuck no.  I heard it myself.  They’re fucking
going for it.”
 
She began to laugh, softly at first, and then more loudly, until she was
rolling back and forth on the sofa, cackling madly.  Her mirth was at obvious
odds with the tear-streaks on her face, but she didn’t care.
 
“Holy fuck,” she gasped at last.  “They dump Leviathan on the fucking moon,
then come back here to get a little wild monkey sex, just because they can. 
Fuck me, that’s more badass than a bunch of ninja pirates with chainsaw
nunchucks.”
 
Brian had to shake his head at her bizarre simile. 
 
“Come on,” he said.  “Let’s see what’s on TV.  Let them celebrate being alive.”
 
He reached for the remote.  She got there first.
 
And upstairs, the wild monkey sex went on.
 
***
 
Taylor found herself on her back, Miss Militia poised between her thighs.  From
the older woman’s hips jutted … it was a strap-on dildo that had strange
attachments, and blinking orange and green lights on it.  Taylor had never seen
one like it before.
 
“What – is that your weapon thing?” she asked.
 
Hannah kissed her, slowly and lingeringly. “Yes,” she murmured.  “Do you trust
me?”
 
Taylor kissed her hard in return.  Miss Militia began to insert the dildo.
 
As it slid into her, Taylor arched her pelvis up to meet Hannah’s thrusts.  She
felt it enter her, penetrate her, drive to her slippery, secret depths.  “Oh
god,” she groaned.  “Oh god, that’s so good.”
 
Danny watched Hannah drive the dildo into Taylor’s wet and willing vagina,
begin to fuck her with long, hard, precision-driven strokes.  Taylor’s breasts
jiggled with the thrusts; her head was thrown back, her mouth open, her eyes
wide. Her nails dug into Hannah’s back, as she made incoherent noises of
pleasure.
 
Hannah smiled down at her, nibbled at her neck, suckled at her breasts, all
without breaking rhythm.  The sexual implement that she had fashioned from her
weapon energy technically had combat applications, but she wasn’t using those.
She was just using it to screw Taylor Hebert into a panting mess on the bed. 
Watching Taylor respond to the stimulation, her steady thrusts, was more
arousing than she would have thought possible.  She increased the tempo, thrust
harder.
 
Taylor nearly lifted herself and Hannah right off the bed with a monumental
orgasm.  Hannah kept right on screwing her into the mattress.
 
Danny found himself hugely aroused by the sight of one woman he loved dearly
being thoroughly fucked by another woman he was learning to love.  He got up
alongside them, caressed them, kissed Hannah.  She responded avidly, her hips
still pumping, the dildo driving between Taylor’s swollen labia, to Taylor’s
evident and total pleasure.
 
Danny got up behind Miss Militia, caressing her ass and thighs, rubbing her
labia.  She gasped as he inserted a finger into her, letting her own motion
side it in and out of her.  She was hot, wet, slippery, tight.  She groaned,
thrust backward just as hard as she was thrusting forward.  He guided his erect
penis so that it was sliding up and down between her buttocks as they flexed
and relaxed with each thrust; the sensation was amazing.
 
She felt the sliding sensation between her buttocks, and for a moment thought
that he had put it into her ass.  But there was no pressure, no stretching, no
penetration. Just … oh my god.  Then she felt him moving it around, lining up
with her labia, getting ready to penetrate her, slide into her, take her from
behind even as she was taking his daughter so deeply, so powerfully.
 
She wanted him to cum inside her pussy again.  And again.  She wanted to feel
his cock driving between her labia, into her yielding vaginal passage, making
love to her, loving her, taking her for his own.
 
But something else occurred to her, and she groaned, “No, don’t.  Not there.
Not yet.”
 
He paused, puzzled, and she took the time to step it into high gear.  Taylor
didn’t stand a chance.
 
Taylor felt another orgasm blasting through her. The only person who had
managed to make her feel better than this was Danny; Chris, unfortunately,
despite his enthusiasm and natural talent, fell rather behind.  She gasped,
mouth open wide, as the driving shaft between her thighs slammed her into new
levels of climactic pleasure.  
 
When Hannah finally finished giving her vagina the punishment it so richly
deserved, and she so avidly desired, she was flat out on the bed, not sure
which way was up, nor caring very much.
 
Hannah kissed Taylor, then carefully withdrew the dildo from between her
throughly arousal-slicked thighs.  The teen lay there, gasping for breath, eyes
unfocused, twitching slightly.  From time to time, she let out a soft moan or
whimper.  She didn’t seem to be able to close her thighs; her labia, heavily
distended, were almost red raw from Miss Militia’s attentions.
 
“Damn,” said Danny.  “You did a number on her.”
 
She kissed him.  “It was a thank-you for letting me be with you,” she said
softly.  “Now, I believe you said something about lube …?”
 
Danny raised an eyebrow.  “You’re sure?”
 
Hannah nodded firmly.  “I’m sure.”
 
***
 
Hannah poised herself on all fours on the edge of the bed, her naked posterior
thrust out enticingly toward Danny.
 
“Are you sure?” he asked her one more time.  His hands caressed her rounded
dark-skinned globes, rubbing in lubricant.  A finger slid into her tightest
hole and she drew her breath in sharply.  Lying in front of her, Taylor
caressed her firm breasts, and raised up on one elbow to kiss her.  Hannah
returned the kiss, then looked over her shoulder.
 
“Not particularly, Danny, but I’m willing to try it with you. You saved my
life.  You saved many lives.  And so, your reward.  No-one else has done this
with me.”
 
“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” grinned Taylor, pulling her head down for another
kiss.
 
Hannah smiled, and lifted one hand to caress Taylor’s naked breasts.  “I will
certainly try to do so,” she murmured.
 
Behind her, Danny took hold of her hips, and slowly began to slide his long
penis in between her firm buttocks.
 
She grunted as she felt the tip of his erection teasing open the tight anal
pucker.  She felt herself stretching, as the lubricated penis eased its way
inside of her virgin ass.  Her sphincter clenched, flexed, as she instinctively
tried to repel the invader. 
 
He stopped.  “You okay?” he asked, solicitously.  Taylor kissed her again.
 
She nodded, and forced herself to relax. “Yes,” she said.  “Keep going.  Put it
in me.  I want to feel you inside me.”  She kissed Taylor in return.  Felt the
girl reaching under her, caressing her labia, rubbing her clitoris.  The wave
of pleasure relaxed her, and she felt Danny slide another few inches inside of
her.
 
“Oh my god,” she gasped, eyes going wide.  “Oh my god.”
 
The sensation was incredible. Uncomfortable, unfamiliar, but … at the same time
… intense.  And oh so pleasurable.
 
She felt herself pushing back at Danny’s gentle thrusts, as Taylor slid fingers
in and out of her slippery vaginal passage. With each thrust, he opened her up
more, spread her anal opening wider, pushed her taut buttocks farther apart.
She thought she could take no more, and then he thrust more into her anyway.  
 
Finally, she felt his scrotum come to rest against her swollen labia.  She
realised that he was all the way inside her.  It was an amazing sensation.  And
so arousing to realise that his long penis was all the way up inside her tight,
previously virgin, asshole.
 
Slowly, he began to slide in and out of her, and she gasped with the sensation,
then kissed Taylor hard.  Taylor kissed her back, caressing her body and
breasts. Hannah arched her back as Danny plunged inside her once more.
 
“I want to eat you,” she gasped, as she felt the man behind her speed up his
pace.  Her ass was on fire, but it was a good kind of fire, the type that lit
up her entire being.
 
Taylor eagerly spread herself out for Hannah, and felt the older woman begin to
eat her pussy with commendable enthusiasm. They had both learned a great deal
about pleasuring women in the last couple of hours, and Taylor’s body bucked
and heaved on the bed as the orgasmic sensations blasted through her.
 
Danny was in seventh heaven.  Not one, but two women were in his bed, each of
whom he was seriously attracted to, and each wanting his sexual favours.  More
to the point, he was in the process of anally deflowering Miss Militia, whose
ass was just as tight and hot as Taylor’s had been, the first time they had
managed anal sex.  The grasp her rectal passage had on his penis was
astounding; it was all he could do to thrust into her at all.  He had no idea
how long he could hold on before he came, but it wouldn’t be long.  Grasping
her hips, he upped the tempo, drawing gasps of pleasure from her as he pushed
his cock deeper and deeper between her taut buttocks.
 
 “I’ve just got one question,” grunted Miss Militia, as Danny thrust hard into
her. “Why did I have to arrive naked?”
 
Taylor grinned and kissed her again.  “We had to save weight, obviously.”
 
Hannah braced herself and thrust back at Danny. “Right,” she groaned.  “Stupid
question.”
 
And then she gave herself entirely over to the pleasure.
 
Hannah was just about twice Taylor’s age, and she didn’t need Panacea’s
assistance to be able to take a good hard session of anal sex. Once she got
used to it, she urged him on with moans and cries of passion, pushing back at
him, helping him force himself hard between her buttocks, until she had come
and come and come again.  When he finally unleashed his own orgasm, she felt
the blast of semen coating the inside of her bowels, filling her ass up with
his effusions.
 
Afterward, they lay side by side on the bed, each one sweaty all over again. 
Hands gently caressed, lips brushed against lips.
 
“Wow,” groaned Danny, his member flaccid for the moment.  “That was … insane.”
 
Taylor rested her head on his shoulder.  “Oh god yes,” she agreed.  “I can’t
believe we just did all that.”
 
Hannah, cuddled up on Danny’s other side, head pillowed on his arm, just
murmured wordlessly in agreement.
 
“You realise we are going to have to let them know we’re alive eventually?” she
said after a while.
 
The only answer she got was a soft snore from Danny, and quiet breathing from
Taylor.
 
She smiled, snuggled a little more closely into Danny, and closed her eyes. 
She wouldn’t sleep, but she could certainly go over her memories of what they
had just done together.  And when Danny and Taylor woke up, they could do it
all again, with variations.
 
After all, she was off the clock.  And while she would have to check in
eventually, it didn’t have to right this very second.
 
It was a very nice feeling.
***** Afterglow *****
Chapter Summary
     Pathfinder, Compass Rose and Miss Militia continue to enjoy each
     others' company in bed
Taylor kissed Hannah, their lips melding together, tongues duelling sensuously.
Hannah caressed Taylor’s breasts, her hands squeezing and pinching the
sensitive flesh in ways that made Taylor all the more aroused. For her part,
Taylor supported her weight on her hands as she ground herself down on to the
high-tech dildo that Hannah had strapped to her hips.
It filled Taylor utterly, hitting every button she had and then some. Every
time she ground down, every time Hannah bucked her hips upward, Taylor’s brain
exploded with pleasure. It was almost as good as sex with Danny.
Hannah moaned as Taylor slid her distended labia up and down along the thick
dildo, impaling herself on it again and again. It came with extensions that
pushed into Hannah’s vagina and anus, extensions that vibrated or introduced
other sensations, ones that made her arch her back in ecstasy. And what Taylor
was doing … she could do this all day, the orgasms making her mind white out
with pleasure.
The kiss went on and on, the two women tasting one another’s lips and tongue,
along with hints of one another’s sexual juices, as each had spent some time
extensively pleasuring the other via cunnilingus. Hannah’s nails bit into
Taylor’s back as the younger girl moved her hips faster. Taylor’s eyes rolled
back in her head as she came, but her hips never stopped moving.
They rolled over, Hannah taking over the thrusting without missing a beat.
Taylor’s legs spread wide as she stared up at Hannah, eyes glazed with passion.
Quickly, efficiently, Hannah gathered up Taylor’s legs, one over each of her
shoulders, and began to really give her the goods.
Taylor cried out again and again as Hannah’s dildo slid into her, as deep as it
would go, her raised and vulnerable pussy totally at Hannah’s mercy. The
thrusts were almost brutal, almost painful, but they struck at her centre in a
way that sent bolts of sheer blinding orgasmic pleasure throughout her body.
Hannah felt the feedback from her thrusting, and redoubled her tempo; she could
not believe how good this felt. Her brain was melting, her vagina and anus on
fire from the sensations. She suckled on Taylor’s breasts, her teeth scoring
the nipples and driving the younger girl over the edge once more into a
shuddering orgasm.
Their lips were joined one last time when they finally finished, concluding
with a mind-shatteringly mutual orgasm that nearly threw them both off the bed.
They collapsed, Hannah atop Taylor, too exhausted to even move.
Hannah let Taylor’s legs down, but she did not have the energy to pull the
dildo from within her, so she simply let it dissolve and reform as a baton
which she left to one side. With that out of the way, she was able to slide off
of Taylor, sweat-slick skin against sweat-slick skin, and lie there, panting.
***
Danny found them like that, moments later. He teleported into the room wearing
his bathrobe, and was immediately surrounded by a particularly delectable
aroma. In each hand, he bore a plate.
“Wow,” he commented. “Looks like you two couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
Taylor mustered a weak grin. “Says the man who fucked me to exhaustion the
night before I went back to school.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Danny observed. “Just that you don’t even
need me around to go screwing like rabid weasels.” He sat down on the bed and
waved a plate near her nose. “Scrambled eggs?”
"Ooh, yes, please," replied Taylor, pushing herself to a sitting position. She
took a plate, then shared a lingering kiss with Danny. Hannah rolled over and
sat up a moment later, her naked breasts bobbing gently.
"Thank you, Daniel," she smiled, accepting the second plate from him. The
moment his hands were free, purple-brown smoke billowed around them, and he
held a third plate.
They sat and ate the heaping helpings of scrambled eggs that he had prepared,
then he sent the plates and cutlery to the sink. Next, he pulled chilled fruit
juice from the fridge and glasses from the cupboard.
When the last glass had been emptied and sent back to the kitchen, Taylor
snuggled up to Danny on one side, and Hannah did the same on the other.
"Thank you for breakfast, Daniel," the older woman murmured.
"Yeah, Dad, thanks," chimed in Taylor. She tugged at the belt holding the
bathrobe closed; a moment later, the bathrobe itself vanished altogether in a
puff of smoke.
Danny took a moment to kiss Hannah, then he cupped Taylor’s breast and squeezed
it gently. “You ladies have been getting all hot and sweaty,” he told them with
a grin. “Maybe you need a shower.”
“Not before we get you all hot and sweaty too, Dad,” Taylor stated, pushing him
over on to his back. She took hold of his penis, already half-hard, and fondled
it to full erection. “And I want some of your cum.”
Danny caressed the young woman’s full, rounded curves. “So, do you want it in
your pussy or your ass?” he asked suggestively.
“Well, Hannah just did my pussy so good I’m still twitching down there,” Taylor
confessed, “so I’m thinking my ass.”
“No,” Hannah said unexpectedly. “Let me do your ass. Daniel deserves a good,
old-fashioned blowjob.”
“Ooh,” murmured Taylor. “You haven’t done my ass yet, have you?”
Hannah licked her lips as she ran her hands over Taylor’s rounded, firm
posterior. “We can always pretend it’s your first time.”
Taylor leaned around to kiss her; the older woman’s lips were firm and warm on
hers, and their tongues touched momentarily. “It will be, with that monstrosity
you call a dildo.”
“Monstrosity?” exclaimed Hannah in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that’s
a finely crafted weapon of war.”
“Weapon of pussy destruction is what it is,” Taylor declared. “You gave my
clitoris a concussion, is what you did.”
“Well, let’s see if I can’t give your ass one too,” Hannah decided, and gave
Taylor a push, to bend her over in the right attitude. “Go on, get to work.”
Taylor giggled. “Sexual slavery, that’s what this is.” She kissed Danny softly,
lovingly, then trailed more kisses down his chest and stomach.
“And what if it is?” asked Danny, feeling his cock harden by the second under
the skilful manipulation of her hands. He reached under her, cupped her breast,
squeezed it.
She looked up at him and grinned. “Bring it on.” And then she lowered her mouth
over the head of his penis, and said no more.
Danny gasped as her lips enfolded his glans, and her tongue began its devilish,
naughty, insanely wonderful job of bringing him to as high a state of arousal
as Taylor could manage.
Taylor, of course, could feel his reactions, feel the pleasure that he felt,
and knew what felt best. So of course she did that, more and more. Danny lay
back with a groan, unable to believe the sheer pleasure that Taylor could
elicit with her lips wrapped around his rampant erection.
And then Taylor felt something else. She was on all fours on the bed, and
Hannah was caressing and fondling her buttocks and labia. She moaned softly
when she felt a delicate tongue caressing, licking, teasing, exploring her
secret crevices. Danny felt her pleasure in turn, and felt his own arousal
mount exponentially.
Taylor slid her mouth down his shaft; after much practice – willing and eager
practice – she had learned how to deep-throat him, and he groaned as he felt
the back of her throat enfold the head of his penis, and pass it down her
gullet. Slowly, teasingly, she pulled her mouth back, then pushed it forward
again, affording him – and, of course her – the most exquisite of sensations.
Hannah, behind her, was squeezing her buttocks, pulling them apart to expose
her rosebud pucker. An exploratory finger slid into her tightest hole; she
clenched on it, then relaxed, allowing Hannah to invade her farther, deeper,
pushing the finger all the way into her. She pulled it almost all the way out,
then slid it back into Taylor’s ass again, slowly and gently finger-fucking
her.
As Hannah lovingly violated her ass – to her great enjoyment – Taylor continued
to suck her father’s rigid erection. His back was arched, his head thrown back,
and the only sound he was able to make was a strangled groan. Unable to grin
due to the mouthful she was dealing with, she redoubled her attentions to his
member, causing him to claw at the bedclothes in reaction.
Taylor worked carefully at him, even as she felt her buttocks being parted once
more; this time, the blunt head of Hannah’s weaponised dildo was the thing
pushing between them and into her, and she gasped around her father’s cock.
That thing was huge!
She felt her anus stretch wider and wider, and still it had not gained full
entry. A momentary image crossed her mind of Hannah penetrating her anally with
something the size of a small log, and her eyes began to water. Fortunately,
Panacea’s alteration to her anal passage made it much more elastic and
resilient, and so she wasn’t even beginning to feel pain yet. But it made her
wonder what it was going to be like once Hannah got that thing all the way
inside her.
In the meantime, Danny needed her attention, and so she gave it to him. He was
close to cumming, so close. But she didn’t want him going off quite yet, so she
eased off, keeping him on the edge, so close he could taste it, sending him
more or less insane with pleasure. Only the bond they shared allowed her to do
this to him so easily.
In any case, it was only fair; he had done it to her more than once, kept her
on the edge of orgasm for an indeterminate time, until she finally gave in and
begged for surcease. Then, of course, he had sent her into a climax that had
left her stunned for several minutes afterward.
She finally felt Hannah’s dildo finish gaining entry and begin to slide into
her. Her eyes opened wide, but not as wide as she imagined her anal sphincter
to be spreading at the moment. It was amazing. Her father had taken her from
behind quite regularly, and after the treatment from Panacea, quite thoroughly
and occasionally even roughly. But none of that matched up to the sensation she
was feeling right now, as Hannah pushed her dildo deep inside Taylor’s
quivering rectum.
When Hannah began to thrust into her, Taylor came on the spot. The sensation of
being penetrated by that long, thick weapon was one thing, but to actually have
it driving between her buttocks, violating her, penetrating her ass, was quite
another.
She had thought it was good to be screwed vaginally by that thing.
Hannah started her pace slow, feeling Taylor’s body quivering under her hands.
She could tell that the girl was pacing herself with her father’s penis,
keeping him on the edge, keeping him erect and almost climaxing, even as the
thick dildo pushed into her from behind. But then Hannah smiled a secret smile,
squeezed her vaginal muscles in a certain way, and began to thrust harder and
deeper.
The insert into Hannah’s vagina had several purposes. One was to transmit any
input along the dildo to equivalent sensory outputs for the user of the dildo;
the tightness and quivering of Taylor’s ass was translating as a series of
highly enjoyable electrical impulses that set Hannah’s nerves dancing. The head
of the dildo sent its signals to the insert that was firmly embedded between
Hannah’s buttocks; the feedback from that was threatening to drive her into
orgasm already.
Another purpose was to allow her to control various functions of the dildo.
Designed for hypothetical battlefield interrogations against enemy combatants
conditioned against pain, this was intended to make the sexual experience as
pleasurable as possible. There were also functions intended to make it as
painful as possible, but Hannah kept those firmly locked down.
The squeezing of her vaginal muscles sent signals to the dildo, and Taylor
arched her back as a blast of pleasure spread out in all directions from the
long phallus currently fully inserted in her anus. Mild electrical currents
teased her nerve endings, making her think her ass was on the verge of
exploding from the sheer blind pleasure she was feeling.
And then Hannah started fucking her in earnest. Taylor gave herself over to the
feeling, the sensations, the knowlege that this was one of the two very best
ass-fucks she was ever likely to get, and she totally forgot about keeping
Danny on the edge.
Danny felt, second-hand, the orgasm that was building up inside Taylor’s loins,
and he felt his own climax threatening. He let out a guttural shout, and felt
the fire gathering, exploding, from his balls, from his guts, from every point
on his being. He erupted, spurting, jetting, filling Taylor’s mouth with his
hot white semen.
Taylor felt herself beginning to orgasm, and felt the sensation of her father
letting go at the same time. Hannah had hold of her hips, and was ramming the
thick dildo hard into her, over and over again, even as her ass was clenching
around its intruding length, even as she gulped and swallowed, trying to keep
up with the volume of semen that her father was ejaculating.
Danny came and came and came; Taylor, pulling her mouth from his penis, was
splattered by several more wads of his cum. She herself was still cumming,
still climaxing, from the sensations that Hannah was eliciting in her body,
from the oversized monster of a dildo that the older woman was using to tickle
her tonsils via her ass.
Hannah felt her own climax hit, felt it overcome her, felt herself continue to
thrust into Taylor’s sadly abused rectum, even as the sensations from her own
vagina and rectum whited out her mind with sheer blind orgasmic bliss.
***
They lay there for quite some time, Taylor slumped over Danny – and still
spattered with his cum – and Hannah over Taylor, her dildo transformed to a
more mundane weapon.
Slowly, Taylor caressed Hannah’s hair, then leaned down and kissed her. “Wow,
fuck,” she murmured. “You succeeded.”
Hannah smiled lazily and returned the kiss. “Succeeded at what, dear one?” she
asked softly.
“Gave my ass a concussion,” Taylor told her frankly. “I’m not sure I’ll be
sitting down any time too soon.”
Hannah chuckled tiredly. “You’re welcome,” she smiled. She crawled up alongside
Taylor, kissed her again, and then farther up to lie alongside Danny. “We’re
going to shower now,” she whispered. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“Guh,” he groaned. “Don’t think I c’n stand. Or move. What you did to Taylor. I
felt. Fuck.” One hand waved vaguely, then fell back to the bed. “Go. Have fun.”
***
They did have fun; two wet and slippery women with quite a lot of imagination
and no inhibitions whatsoever can get up to a great deal in a shared shower.
Hannah gently washed Taylor’s still-tender ass and pussy, then got down and
gave her a going-over with her tongue that left the younger girl shaken and
wobbly at the knees; Hannah had to support her when she orgasmed, so that she
did not fall.
In return, after the shower, Taylor borrowed Hannah’s weaponised dildo and bent
her over the washstand. Hannah watched in the mirror as Taylor slid it into her
tight vaginal passage, and cried out again and again as she came, feeling her
own device penetrating to her very depths.
Afterward, still drying themselves, they strolled back into the bedroom, to
find Danny somewhat recovered. “So what’s on the agenda now?” he asked.
“I think it’s time we let them know we’re alive,” decided Hannah. “Danny, can
you get me more clothes?”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. Taylor?”
Taylor reached out and took his hand, and in moments, Hannah had a full outfit
laid out on the bed.
The kisses and caresses meant that the normal time it took them to dress was
increased quite a bit, but they knew that it was time to clock on, so playtime
was over. Even so, it nearly devolved into yet another threesome more than
once.
“How are we going to play this?” asked Danny. “Full truth, half-truth, lie
about where we’ve been and what we’ve been doing ...?”
Miss Militia – for she was fully in that persona now – smiled behind her scarf.
“None of the above,” she declared. “We say nothing. No explanations. Leviathan
is on the moon due to us. Do you think they’ll begrudge us a three-day
holiday?”
Taylor nodded slowly. “I hope the Director sees it that way.”
Danny grinned. “We’ll be fine, kiddo.”
Taylor squeezed his hand. “Kiss before we go?”
Danny nodded; Miss Militia pulled down her scarf.
Danny kissed Hannah, slowly and lovingly. Then he kissed Taylor, equally
lovingly. Finally, Hannah kissed Taylor, their hands caressing one another’s
costumed bodies.
“When I said I was not interested in women ...” Hannah murmured, “I was
incorrect. Or rather, I did not know of my interest.”
Taylor smiled and kissed her again. “Oh yeah,” she replied. “Oh yeah.”
They readied themselves.
“Three,” said Pathfinder.
They joined hands.
“Two.”
Each of them unconsciously took a deep breath.
“One.”
Purple-brown smoke billowed.
They went.
***** The Big Reveal *****
Chapter Summary
     Amy and Vicky move out, while Danny, Taylor and Hannah let their
     superiors know that they are still alive.
Glory Girl landed on the street outside the house with Panacea in her arms.
“Are you sure it’ll be all right?” asked the healer, as Victoria set her on her
feet.
“Sure,” Glory Girl assured her, and gave her a kiss. “Mom’ll come around. She
was just a little stressed, before.”
***
“Absolutely not!” shouted Carol Dallon. “I will not have her living under my
roof!”
“But Mom, this is Amy,” Victoria coaxed her. “She’s lived here for years.”
“Until she seduced you into her bed!” snapped Brandish. “She’s your sister, for
God’s sake!”
“Adopted sister, Mom,” Vicky corrected her patiently. “No relation. They even
grant exemptions to adopted siblings to marry, these days.”
“I know she’s adopted! She’s the daughter of a villain! I took her into my home
due to the goodness of my heart, and what does she do? She stabs me in the
back! Tries to take my real daughter, my flesh and blood, away from me!” Carol
shook her head.
“Victoria,” she went on, more quietly, “you need to see how dangerous she is.”
“No,” Vicky’s voice was stubborn. “I love her. I want to be with her.”
“Then I’m too late.” Carol’s tone was bleak. “She’s already influenced you
against me. Poisoned your mind.”
“But she hasn’t!” protested Vicky earnestly. “I still want to live here! You’re
still my Mom! Nothing’s changed! Just ... Amy and I will be sleeping in the
same bed.”
“And doing much more than that, from what I caught her doing to you,” commented
Carol acidly.
Vicky blushed. “Mom, that was a private moment between us.”
“For Christ’s sake, Victoria, she had you bent over the bed like a whore while
she shoved a strap-on dildo into you!” shouted Carol. “You used to be straight!
You used to go out with Gallant! What happened?”
For a moment Vicky relived the last time she and Amy had made love. Amy had
indeed bent her over the bed. The language they had used to one another –
sensual, perverted language, provocative and arousing – would not have made her
mother any happier. And the feeling of Amy’s hands on her body, of the thick
dildo sliding into her tight wet pussy, over and over ...
“We met someone who opened our eyes,” Vicky told her mother softly. “And Amy
opened up to me about her feelings. We ... explored them. And I found that I
liked them. It’s as simple as that.”
Carol threw up her hands. “It’s never as simple as that. There’s always
something deeper. And her father is a villain!”
“Mom, Amy is not her dad, whoever the hell he is!” protested Vicky. “I love
her! She loves me!”
Carol Dallon shook her head adamantly. “I cannot allow her to live under my
roof, not any more.”
Vicky took a deep breath, and played her last card. “Then I’m moving out too.”
Carol stared. “You can’t mean that.”
“I can and I will.”
“Where will you stay?”
“Amy says she has an offer already.”
Carol shook her head. “I can’t allow you to go.”
“Mom, I’m sixteen. If I want to go, I can go.”
“You’re making a huge mistake.”
“Not as big as the one you’re making.”
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Fine. Go, then. But don’t blame me when you come crawling back.”
“That’ll be the day.”
***
Amy looked up as Vicky appeared at the door, hefting two large suitcases.
“Our worldly goods,” she announced, dropping one case to the ground with a
thud. “That one’s yours.”
Amy frowned. “That’s all?” she asked. “I thought we had more stuff than that.”
Vicky shrugged. “All Mom would let me take.”
“Oh well, I guess it will have to do.” Amy stepped forward and embraced Vicky.
“Thanks for doing this, for being with me. It means so much.”
Glory Girl kissed her adopted sister, holding her close. “I love you, Ames.
That’s all there is to it.”
Amy snuggled into her sister’s arms. She never wanted to let her go.
***
Aisha glanced out the window. “Hey, bro, we call a cab?”
Brian looked up from where he was mopping the kitchen floor. “Uh, no. Why?”
“Because one just pulled up outside. Ah, wait, no, someone’s getting out.”
“Who?”
“Fuck me. Looks like Glory Girl and Panacea.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Come see for yourself.”
Brian lodged the mop in the bucket and came through into the living room. “Huh.
Wonder what’s going on here?”
***
Amy paid off the cabbie while Vicky hefted the suitcases out of the trunk of
the taxicab. They turned to look at the house.
“You sure this is the right address?” asked Vicky, frowning.
Amy nodded earnestly. “Taylor wrote it down for me once.”
Shrugging, Glory Girl hefted both cases. “Well, let’s go.”
They walked up the path, Amy in the lead. As she got to the bottom of the
steps, the door opened. A tall black guy stood there, with a frown on his face.
***
Brian watched the two teen heroes advancing up the path; he went through into
the front hall and opened the door.
“Uh, hi,” he greeted them. “Are you in the right place?”
“I hope so,” replied Panacea. “Danny and Taylor Hebert said we could stay over
here for a bit?”
“Ah,” replied Brian. “I’m Brian Laborn. Come on in. We can talk about this.”
Amy trotted up the steps, followed by Victoria. However, as the blonde put her
foot on the bottom step, there was a splintering crack and the wood broke in
half.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “I broke your step.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Brian assured her. “I’ll fix it later. I think it was
rotten anyway.”
Victoria looked down at the step, split in half under the weight of both her
own body, and both suitcases. “I’ll help you do it,” she promised. Lifting into
the air, she drifted in through the door, trying not to break anything else on
the way.
***
Amy and Vicky sat on the couch with Aisha; Brian had gone back to mopping the
kitchen.
“So yeah, before they went off to fight Leviathan, Danny and Taylor sort of
said we could stay,” Amy told Aisha. She sniffled. “They’ve done so much for
Vicky and me, and now they’re ...”
“Upstairs,” grinned Aisha.
Amy and Vicky stared at her.
She shrugged. “They teleported back here, first thing.”
Amy sprang to her feet. “I need to see them -!”
Aisha blocked her way, still grinning. “Nope. We’re pretending we don’t know
they’re still alive. We were actually heading out soon, so they could sneak
down and get something to eat.”
“But – why?” asked Vicky blankly. “What are they doing up there?”
“Fucking like rabid weasels, is our best guess,” Brian supplied from the
kitchen, trying and failing to hide a grin. “We think they’ve got Miss Militia
in there with them.”
Amy felt her eyes trying to cross. “Danny and Taylor in a threesome with Miss
Militia?”
Aisha shrugged. “Hey, it seems to work for them.”
“So,” Brian told them. “You two can move into the spare room for the time
being. I’ll move down to the sofa bed.”
“And then we can go out,” announced Aisha, “and get something to eat, while our
resident heroes keep pretending to be dead so they can screw each others’
brains out in private.”
For some reason, Amy found that incredibly funny. She was still giggling when
they left the house.
***
Two Days Later
Director Piggot leaned on her desk and glared at the three capes.
“So I’m supposed to believe that you teleported blind to the middle of nowhere,
and you’ve only just now recovered enough to get back here?” she demanded.
“Well, no,” Pathfinder clarified. “We just spent the last three days having sex
in every way possible. But that’s the story.”
The Director seemed to be trying not to choke on something. Eventually, she
cleared her throat, and looked at Miss Militia. “And you? What do you have to
say for yourself?”
The flag-wearing cape shrugged. “What can I say? We faced an Endbringer. We put
him on the moon. I believe we were due a little holiday, a little rest and
recreation.”
“A great deal of sex,” interjected Compass Rose, cheekily.
Piggot took a long breath in through her nostrils. “Granted. But couldn’t you
have simply told us? We’ve been in mourning, here!”
Pathfinder took his helmet off. He leaned forward and met the Director’s gaze.
“And how long before someone would have found a really, really good excuse to
interrupt our little holiday?”
Piggot tried to meet his gaze. “Maybe we wouldn’t,” she muttered, but her voice
lacked conviction.
“Listen,” Compass Rose cut in briskly. “Let’s cut through the bullshit. Dad and
I fuck, a lot. And Hannah is welcome in our bed, any time. We’re gonna keep
doing this. It’s a thing, with us. And we just put a fucking Endbringer on the
fucking moon.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s not like you’re gonna punish us for being absent
without leave. So I’m sorry, but if you keep yelling at us, I’m going to start
making out with my dad, on your desk, until you either stop yelling at us or
punish us. Hannah, you’re welcome to join in.”
She shrugged out of her coat and turned to Pathfinder, pulling him to her.
Their lips met, molding hungrily together, as their arms went around one
another. She moved backward until her buttocks nudged the desk; Danny lifted
her up until she was sitting on the edge.
Piggot lasted until Danny began to unzip Taylor’s top, then she gave in.
“Okay, fine,” she exclaimed, pushing her chair back from her desk. “You win. No
punishment, no more yelling. Now put your costume back on.”
Demurely, Taylor zipped up her top, hopped off the desk, and shrugged into her
coat.
“And a damn good job, all three of you,” added Piggot reluctantly. “We’ll put
the story out about your return. A remote island, was it?”
Danny nodded, then replaced his helmet. “Somewhere in the South Pacific should
do the job.”
The Director glanced at Miss Militia. “And you’re on board with this?”
Miss Militia shrugged in return. “Why not? It’s the longest time I’ve had a
chance to do what I wanted to do in ... well, forever. And I find myself
enjoying it. And it’s not like we haven’t earned it.”
Piggot pressed her lips together. “Fine. Right. Go see Armsmaster. He’ll need
to debrief you.”
Danny and Taylor were already laughing before the purple-brown smoke billowed
around the three of them. It took Piggot a few more seconds before she realised
the unwitting pun that she’d just made.
Opening the bottom drawer on the left hand side of her desk, she pulled out the
bottle of bonded whiskey that she kept there. Pouring herself a healthy slug,
she threw it back in one practised motion.
Capes. They’ll be the death of me yet.
***
“And we’re back from our ad break, and we have in the studio three surprise
guests. The heroes of the latest Endbringer attack, back from the dead in a
surprising turn of events!”
Compass Rose and Miss Militia tried not to squint at the bright studio lights.
Compass Rose’s helmet had one cracked goggle lens, and one shattered.
Pathfinder’s merely had a cracked lens, but there was also a crack down the
side of the helmet itself.
All three wore simulacra of their standard costumes, torn and tattered and a
size larger than normal, so that the clothing hung on their bodies, making them
look starving and malnourished. The sleeve of Compass Rose’s coat had been
removed; around her leg was a neat white bandage with an artistic bloodstain on
it.
The show host, to make the contrast even more visible, was immaculately
dressed; his trousers had a razor crease, and his hair looked so gelled that it
could probably be lifted away in one piece from his scalp.
Each of them was also dishevelled in other ways; Miss Militia’s hair was
disarranged, and Pathfinder showed distinct stubble on his chin. Compass Rose
had to remember to limp, any time she walked anywhere on her ‘wounded’ leg, and
there was a large scrape on her cheek,
“Compass Rose! Pathfinder! And the winsome Miss Militia!”
All in all, the costuming department had done a splendid job. They truly looked
like a group of shipwreck survivors, as opposed to people who had spent the
last three days naked and sweaty on a mattress.
The show host turned to Compass Rose. “So tell me, how did you and your fellow
capes pull off this magnificent escape?”
“Well, Larry ...” she began.
***
Lisa relaxed on the couch and watched the interview. Rachel sat beside her, her
dogs sitting at her feet.
“Huh,” muttered Rachel. “They’re alive.”
Lisa nodded. “Yeah. Figured as much.”
Rachel gave her an irritated glance. “You always say that.”
“And I’m always right.”
“And you’re always a fucking annoying smartass.”
Lisa grinned. “So how are things between you and Armsmaster?”
Rachel grunted. “He’s an annoying prick, but ... he understands. What it’s
like.”
Suddenly, Lisa burst out laughing. Rachel looked like she was going to hit her,
but Lisa gasped, “Not you, not you – the interview.”
Rachel looked back at the TV. “What about it?”
“They teleported to a remote Pacific island and then came home when they
recovered. Or that’s what they say. It’s bullshit from beginning to end.”
“Yeah? What really happened?”
“They teleported home, and they’ve been fucking for the last three days.”
Rachel stared at her. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
Lisa shook her head, still giggling. “Nope. It’s written all over their faces,
their outfits, everything. If Danny isn’t screwing Miss Militia, then I don’t
know anything.”
Rachel shook her head. She didn’t know anything about people. Something like
this? She’d take Lisa’s word for it. As annoying as the bitch could be, she was
almost certain to be right about it.
Still, she was kind of glad Taylor and Danny were alive. They’d done right by
the Undersiders, saved their lives. And putting Leviathan on the moon had saved
everyone from an even worse fight, which was a good thing.
After all, some of her dogs might have gotten hurt.
***** Definitely More Sex *****
Chapter Summary
     Aisha learns about house rules; Armsmaster and Bitch reach an
     understanding; Gallant and Vista enjoy one anothers' company
“ - and then we came home,” Taylor concluded.
The others in the living room considered her words. The second sofa made the
living room a little more crowded, and the TV had had to be moved so the gaming
console would not get in the way, but it could now be called 'cosy'. Certainly,
there was enough room for six people to sit, without dragging chairs in from
the kitchen.
Aisha snickered. “Came home, and straight away started fucking each others'
brains out, you mean.”
Danny sighed. “Aisha, what Taylor and I do in private should stay private. And
someone your age shouldn't really be talking about that sort of thing.”
She cackled out loud. “My age? Taylor's what, fifteen? I'm only a year younger
than her. If you two have been fucking as much as I think you have, she's had
more cock than most women twice her age.”
Brian put his face in his hands. “Aish,” he muttered. “Shut the fuck up,
please.”
Taylor was blushing bright red, and both Amy and Vicky were also looking very
uncomfortable.
“Aisha Laborn,” snapped Danny. “You will apologise to Taylor, and then you will
go to your room. Now.”
Aisha looked startled. “What the fuck?” she blurted. “You can't send me to my
room! I'm not eight years old!”
Danny gave her a hard stare. “Yes, I can; if I'm going to consent to you living
under my roof, then you will consent to my rules. You may be fourteen, but
you're acting like a little child. You will go to your room, and you will not
come out for one hour.”
Aisha rose to her feet. “Well, fuck you,” she stated defiantly. “If you're
gonna treat me like that -”
Brian stood up as well, and faced her off. “No, Aisha,” he snapped. “Do not
finish that sentence.”
She stared at him. “Brian? What the fuck?”
He took a deep breath. “They took us in, Aish. They're feeding us, taking care
of us. Out of the goodness of their hearts. We owe them. We owe them a lot. And
they do not deserve this sort of shit in return. So how about just a little
respect?”
She stared at him for a long moment, the stubborn pride still showing in her
expression. And then, slowly, it softened, and she suddenly looked vulnerable,
and her eyes dropped.
“I don't – I don't know what to do, big bro,” she admitted. “I've had Mom's
boyfriends treat me like crap so often ...”
“ … that when you meet a good guy, you don't know how to react properly, I get
it,” Danny put in, almost gently. “But the fact remains that you screwed up.
This happens. You just have to learn not to. So go to your room. Have a nap.
Think about what you said. What you could have said instead. When you come out,
it'll all be forgotten. We won't hold it against you. Okay?”
She blinked. “You mean all that?”
Taylor nodded. “He does. He's nice like that.” She put her arm around Danny's
shoulders; they leaned in toward each other.
Aisha took a deep breath. “Well, okay. Fine. I guess I can try out this 'going
to my room' crap once.” She shot Danny what was intended to be a stern glance.
“But don't get too used to it, all right?”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” Danny promised her, his face straight.
“Right. So long as that's settled.” Aisha headed for the front hall. They heard
her footsteps ascending the stairs. Moving along the corridor. The bedroom door
opening and closing.
Danny let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. “Whew. That was not
something I was expecting to have to do.” He nodded to Brian. “That can't have
been easy. Thanks for the backup.”
Brian shrugged. “She hasn't had an easy time of it, but you're right. You have
to set boundaries, and maintain them. Now that she knows that one's there,
she'll probably keep clear of it.”
“She mentioned her mother's boyfriends,” Taylor commented. “That bad, huh?”
“Well, apart from the one who tried to molest her,” Brian noted, his fists
clenching hard, “they've alternated between utterly ignoring her, or cracking
down hard. Not one of them's treated her fairly. And she does have a problem
with short attention span. So it's not all her fault. However ...”
Danny nodded. “However, yeah. We have to let her know where the line is, and
not be too harsh if she steps over it by accident.”
Brian gave him a grateful look. “Thanks. This is the first shot at a proper
home that she's had since … well, since forever. I'd hate for her to cut and
run just because you enforced the rules on her.”
Taylor let Danny go, and stood up to face him. “We're not going to kick her out
either,” she promised. “Aisha can be annoying, but she's a teenager; it sort of
comes with the territory.” She stepped forward and hugged him; after a startled
moment, he returned the embrace. “I know I speak for Dad when I say that you're
both welcome here as long as you want to stay.”
Brian's arms tightened around her. “That means a lot to me. Thanks.”
She leaned into the hug, enjoying the feeling of Brian's arms around her.
Almost as much as she enjoyed Danny's arms around her.
Wow, she thought suddenly. Am I getting turned on by this?
It was a weird thought; sure, she had had sex with Chris. But that had been
more to satisfy her curiosity. With Brian, it seemed … deeper. She knew she was
attracted to guys, or at least to Danny, but Brian was the only other guy who
seemed to bring out these feelings in her. I wonder if he feels the same way?
Letting go the hug, she reluctantly pulled away from him. A covert glance at
his face revealed nothing of his thoughts. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I'd
better leave well enough alone.
“So anyway,” she went on brightly, sitting next to Danny once more. “What are
your plans, Vicky? Amy?”
“Well,” Vicky began slowly. “I'm not going to leave Amy. Not ever. So we'll get
jobs or something, I guess, and when we can afford it, we'll move into our own
place.” She took Amy's hand and squeezed it; Amy squeezed back, smiling at her.
“And when we turn eighteen, we're going to get married.”
“And then kids,” Amy supplied, stealing a kiss from Vicky.
Danny blinked. “Kids?”
Vicky nodded seriously. “Oh, yeah. Amy can do all sorts of cool stuff. She can
make me pregnant, or make it so I can get her pregnant.” She kissed Amy again,
tenderly. “Maybe one from each of us?”
Amy snuggled in to her. “At the very least,” she agreed.
“Actually, that's a job you could charge for,” Taylor suggested. “Fertility
consultant. You can make sure parents get exactly the baby they want. Ensure
they're able to carry to term, every time.”
Amy looked interested, and turned to Vicky. “What do you think?”
Vicky smiled, and kissed her again. “I think you could do whatever you wanted
to, Ames,” she murmured.
Brian sat and watched the two girls with a slight smile on his face. They were
so obviously silly in love with each other. Vicky, he gathered, was new to the
lesbian concept, but she had fallen very hard for her sister in the process.
Amy had loved Vicky for quite a bit longer.
But they're happy together. This is a good thing.
And in the meantime, he had other things to worry about.
I hadn't noticed just how sexy Taylor was, until she hugged me. Aisha was right
– she does have a very nice ass.
But she's in a committed relationship with Danny. They might have let Miss
Militia in on it just for fun, but I doubt Danny would take well to me
propositioning his daughter, even if he is fucking her. Especially if he's
fucking her.
As if she'd even look at me, with what she's got with him.
And – irony of ironies – the only other girl in the house is my sister . Which
is not going to happen.
So it looks like I'm gonna be on my own for a while.
Oh well, so long as Aisha is happy and safe, I'm good.
I'll just have to live with it.
                                     <><>
Rachel galloped down the road on Bentley's back, urging him on with knee
pressure. Alongside her were Brutus and Judas; on the other side, Armsmaster on
his custom bike.
That bike is good, she admitted, but it can't do what my dogs can do.
And Armsmaster understood that, she knew. In the time they had been teamed up
together, he had devised very effective tactics, ones that she could understand
and implement.
Ahead of them were two cars, containing members of the ABB, or what had once
been the ABB. Unwilling to join the Merchants, and unable to become part of the
Empire Eighty-Eight, the majority of Lung's gang had gone freelance, driving
the crime rate up a few notches. This group had just robbed a bunch of shops,
and Armsmaster had tasked the two of them with capturing them.
“Send them left!” bellowed Armsmaster, then peeled hard in that direction down
a side street. Surprised, Rachel looked ahead; sure enough, the street ahead
ended in a T-junction. She grasped the plan at once; I drive them on to him, he
stops them.
She smiled covertly. He really does understand how my dogs work. It raised an
unfamiliar feeling, a warm feeling, in her chest.
But she had no time for that. With a whistle and a gesture, she sent Brutus and
Judas surging ahead, bolting down the right-hand pavement, scattering civilians
as they went. With another command, Brutus leaped, gained the top of a parking
structure, and galloped across the top of it.
He would, she knew, cut the corner and leap down into the street beyond. This
would provide an adequate reason why the robbers should not turn right. Judas,
steadily gaining on the cars, would provide another reason.
Judas was alongside the lead car, snapping and snarling at the passenger side
window, when the intersection loomed ahead. The car driver, predictably,
swerved to the left. The driver of the second car, perhaps sensing that they
were being herded, tried to slip in behind Judas and turn right, but then he
saw Brutus bounding down the road toward him, all bony plates and huge teeth,
and thought better of it. He turned left also, and thus the trap was sprung.
Armsmaster stood in the middle of the next intersection, next to his bike. He
held his halberd in both hands, pointed at the oncoming cars. Rachel imagined
it crackling ominously, though of course she could not hear it from this range.
The driver of the lead car accelerated, tried to swerve around him, but then
the engine died and it rapidly slowed to a halt. The second car, too close
behind, attempted to evade, and clipped the rear corner of the car in front.
It spun, out of control, heading for Armsmaster. Rachel whistled sharply, and
Judas body-blocked the vehicle sideways; it hit a bus stop and flipped on to
its roof. Judas leaped over the armoured hero, landing and digging his claws
into the road beyond in his eagerness to get back to his designated prey.
Moments later, it was all under control. Rachel had Bentley and Brutus peel the
top off of one of the cars, while Judas menaced the inhabitants of the other
car. Sufficiently cowed, they climbed from the vehicles, and surrendered
themselves to the Protectorate cape. Rachel watched from her perch atop
Bentley, her other dogs close alongside her. The looks of terror given her by
the ex-ABB goons were almost matched by the stares of trepidation from
onlookers and police alike, but she didn't give a shit. She'd done the job, and
done it well.
                                     <><>
The argument started after they got back to the PRT building. He had curtly
ordered her to attend to him in a briefing room. She followed him in, not sure
what was going on.
He's angry, she decided, but why?
“You could have done better out there today,” he told her, without preamble.
She stared. “Like hell I could,” she retorted. “My dogs performed perfectly.
Better than perfect. We stopped those clowns, and no-one even got hurt.” Not
even you, she added silently, in a rare display of tact.
“You and your dogs scared a great many people, and caused thousands of dollars
of property damage,” he informed her.
“My dogs,” she growled menacingly, “hurt no-one without my express orders.
Yeah, sure, they shouldered a few cars aside. Stupid morons didn't get out of
the way in time.”
“It's a PRT thing,” he snapped, his voice rising. “We need to look good while
we're doing the job.”
He took off his helmet and placed it on the table; his hair was disarranged and
sweaty from the long day.
“Fuck looking good,” she responded hotly. “My dogs showed everyone out there
today that we are not to be fucked with. And I notice you didn't object to
Judas saving your sorry ass.”
“By shouldering the car into a bus stop,” he snarled. “If there'd been people
there -”
“- I would have told him to shoulder it somewhere else!” she shouted. They were
face to face now, mere inches apart. “I wasn't going to let you get hurt!”
There was a moment of silence, while those words hung in the air of the
conference room. And then they were in each other's arms.
His armour was strange and bulky, but his lips were hot on hers. She felt his
beard, rough on her chin, but she didn't care. His emotions were repressed and
distorted, much like hers. He was a kindred soul. Right now, she was angry with
him. But she wanted him so much.
He pulled his armour off, hastily, breathing raggedly. She stripped out of her
top, her undershirt, her pants. By the time he was down to his underwear, she
was naked, but for her socks.
Frantic hands almost tore the singlet and boxers from him, and then they were
on the floor, rolling over and over on the thick carpet. They kissed again and
again; there was no finesse, no gentle touches. Just two bodies in heat.
She got up on hands and knees; he got up behind her. His erection was hard and
thick; she groaned as he pushed at her hot wet entrance. She spread her thighs
more, pushed back at him. When he entered her, they both cried out at once.
Slowly, excruciatingly, he penetrated to the very depths of her. She shoved
hard back at him, and he began to fuck her.
It wasn't making love, and it wasn't rape. It was purely consensual, but it was
fucking. Hard, unyielding, full-on fucking.
He reached under her and squeezed her breasts as he rammed his cock into her,
as hard and as deeply as he could manage. She grunted with each thrust, her
breath hissing between her teeth, as she pushed back at him, over and over
again.
Part way through, he pulled out and rolled her on to her back; eyes glazed with
lust, she spread her thighs, to let him take her once more, sliding his manhood
between her distended labia, and deep inside her tight slippery wetness.
They kissed as he thrust into her, clinging to one another, rolling over and
over so that first he was on top, and then she was. The sex was frantic, their
breathing harsh.
And then she came, crying out wordlessly, her nails digging into his back. She
wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened them, and he thrust even harder
into her. She threw her head back and came again and again as he plunged his
cock hard inside her.
When he finally let go, it was as if the top of his head was coming off. He had
only been with a woman once before, many years ago, and he had somewhat
forgotten how good it could be. She bit his shoulder as he came inside her, and
he could feel the pulsating of her vaginal canal that said she was coming
herself, again.
                                     <><>
Afterward, he rolled off of her and lay beside her on the carpet. They stared
at the ceiling, panting heavily, covered in sweat.
She recovered first, and started locating her clothes, pulling them on.
He got up as well, and located his underwear. “We tell no-one about this,” he
told her.
“Well, no shit,” she retorted, stepping into her jeans. “We probably broke
about a dozen of your precious fucking rules, just then.”
He paused, looking at her. “Do you think what we did was wrong?”
She looked back at him, pulling her undershirt down over her breasts. “I don't
give a shit about the rules. But I might want to do that again sometime. So we
don't give people a chance to tell us no.”
“Ah,” he replied faintly. “Yeah, that works too.”
She came over to him, then, and stared at him from a distance of about twelve
inches. He thought she was going to kiss him; with the sexual urge temporarily
abated, he thought, it would be very awkward.
But she didn't kiss him; she just stared hard into his face. Whatever she saw
there seemed to satisfy her. “This thing we've got,” she told him at last. “I
can work with it.”
Leaving him staring at her back, she left the room.
                                     <><>
“Hey, Missy, wait up!”
Vista turned and saw Dean, hurrying to catch up with her, just as she was
moving toward the door that led out of the Wards' area.
“What?” she asked, but stopped anyway.
He caught up with her, and smiled. “I was just wondering if … well, you'd like
to go out on patrol with me or something. So we can talk.”
“Talk?” she repeated.
He nodded. “Yeah. About what happened … just before Leviathan.”
She blinked, and coloured slightly. “Ah. That.”
He could see the red flush of embarrassment around her, and held up his hands
placatingly. “Look, we nearly went on a date. There's some feelings there, and
I think we need to address those feelings. Okay?”
She stared at him uncertainly. She recalled the incident all too well. She had
more or less bullied him into kissing her. When she thought back on it later,
she felt profoundly ill at ease; had their positions been reversed, that would
have been sexual assault. Was it so different, if she was a girl and him a guy?
She hunched her shoulders slightly. “Look, if you're going to yell at me for
what I did, just yell and get it over with, all right? I know I did the wrong
thing, and I shouldn't have.”
He took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. “I don't want to yell at
you, Missy. I never did.” His voice was gentle, causing her to look up at him
in startlement.
“Oh, uh,” she stammered, taken off guard, “maybe we can talk then. Patrol? Uh,
I'm off the roster tonight.”
“Whereas I have patrol with Dennis, later,” he mused. “Can you wait a moment?”
“Sure,” she agreed, wandering over to a chair and sitting down.
Dean hurried off, and Missy grinned as she watched him talking urgently to
Clockblocker. They both returned to where she was sitting.
“So, Missy,” Dennis addressed her cheerfully, “it seems that Dean wants you to
come out on patrol with him instead of me. Are you okay with this?”
She nodded. “Sure. So long as I'm back before ten.”
Dennis grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. There's a TV show I
was hoping to catch. So you'll take the patrol for me?”
Missy shrugged. “Said I would, didn't I?”
“You're the best, short stuff.” Dennis leaned in and kissed her on the cheek,
then tried to do the same to Dean.
“Hey, get off!” Dean protested, fending him away.
“But I wuvs you!” Dennis replied in a very campy voice.
Dean shoved him away. “Go watch your TV show.”
Missy was giggling helplessly by the time Dennis finally relented and moved
off, chuckling.
“That boy,” Dean declared, “needs help.”
Missy nearly fell off her chair.
                                     <><>
Standing atop the Forsberg Gallery, they surveyed the city. At twenty-six
storeys, they were far higher than nearly anything nearby, and Brockton Bay was
spread out like a diorama below them.
“Quiet,” commented Vista.
Gallant nodded. “I think everyone's in shock after Leviathan.”
“How long you think before they fix the Boardwalk?”
He shrugged. “A lot less time than it would have normally taken to fix the sort
of damage that an Endbringer normally does.”
She grinned. “True that.” Taking a deep breath, she turned to him. “So. You
wanted to talk.”
He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as he replied. “Yeah. I did.”
“Well, before you say anything,” she stated, “I just want to say that I'm
sorry.”
He blinked. “ … why?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Because I made you kiss me. I guilted you
into it. It was wrong, Dean. If you had guilted me into a kiss, then that would
have been sexual exploitation of a minor. There would have been so much
trouble. Hell, I could still get in trouble for making you kiss me. I was
wrong. There's no two ways about it. So I'm sorry. And I'll never force you do
do that again. I promise.”
She had to rush the end of her little speech, because her voice was starting to
break, and tears were trickling down her face. She turned and looked away from
him, not wanting to see the look of disgust or anger that must surely be on his
face.
His arms went around her from behind, and she was held warmly, securely.
“Missy,” he murmured softly, right into her ear, “if I had not wanted to kiss
you, then I would not have kissed you. And if you regret kissing me, then that
is a pity.” A long pause. “Because I do not regret kissing you.”
Very slowly, she turned around in his arms.
“I … I don't understand,” she told him frankly. “What do you mean by that?”
His helmet, she saw, was hanging at his belt, allowing his blond hair to wave
free in the breeze. He unclasped her visor with gentle fingers, and lifted it
away. Then he brushed back an errant strand of hair from her forehead, in a
motion that made her heart lurch with desire.
“I mean,” he told her softly, “that I have thought long and hard about things
such as love. And pride. And blindness. About how I fought with Vicky nearly
every other date. About how you have always been there for me, no matter how I
treated you like a child, like just another Ward. About how we miss those
things that should be most precious to us, when they are right in front of us.”
“Dean - ?” she whispered, looking up at his face, dimly lit by the city lights
below.
Slowly his lips lowered to meet hers; she shuddered as he kissed her, her eyes
drifting shut. She held him tight, her lips melding to his, her tongue
erotically twining around his. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
When he finally broke the kiss, she was limp in his arms, clinging tightly to
him.
“If you will have me,” he murmured, “I'm willing to go on another date.”
With strength he did not know she possessed, she pulled his head down and
kissed him again, fiercely. “On one condition,” she told him boldly.
“And what's that?” he asked curiously. “Not sex; I don't have any protection on
me.”
She grinned. “No, not sex. Not quite.”
                                     <><>
Naked from the waist down, Vista lay back on the curving glass roof of the
Forsberg Gallery, as Gallant steadily and thoroughly ate her tight young pussy.
She arched her back and moaned as he licked and lapped and nibbled at her
tender sex, teasing her clitoris to an alarming degree of arousal. Her taut
young buttocks pressed against the cold glass, but she didn't care; Dean's
mouth on her tingling vagina was driving her right out of her mind, to
destinations unknown.
He couldn't believe how soft and delicate her labia were, how tender and
sensitive the inner folds of her pussy. Every time he touched them with his
tongue or lips, she quivered and cried out; when he sucked on her clitoris, she
came explosively. Gingerly, he slid a finger into her, slowly penetrating her
virgin orifice; she clamped down on it, and then came again.
When we make love, we're going to have to be very careful indeed, he decided.
But there was no doubt in his mind that they were going to have sex, and not
too far into the future. In the meantime, he was giving her pleasure, and
enjoying the act all the more because of her reactions.
When he had given her all the orgasms he could for the moment, he sat up and
wiped his mouth and chin. She lay back for a few moments longer, gathering her
scattered wits, before sitting up herself.
“Fuckin' wow,” she murmured. “Are you sure you didn't slip it in? Because if
sex is better than that, I can't wait.”
Solemnly, he shook his head, suppressing a grin. “Nope. Not till we can be sure
of privacy and protection both.”
“ … right,” she agreed, crossing her legs unselfconsciously. He found the sight
unbearably erotic. “So, a date on Saturday night?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Movies?”
“Movies,” she confirmed. “And then whatever happens after … happens.”
Smiling, he leaned in and kissed her. She returned it.
“I can't wait,” she breathed.
He wholeheartedly agreed.
Nor can I.
 
***** Interactions *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny realises that he can further one of his goals in life, while
     Amy and Vicky explore their relationship, and Taylor and Brian share
     an interesting experience.
[Author's Note: the PHO segment was created using the tool created by
Conceptualist.]
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■
♦Topic: They Went There
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Compass Rose & Pathfinder
Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Posted on May 15, 2011:
So, is it me, or have the Protectorate been kind of holding back on us
regarding Pathfinder's power level?
I mean, seriously, holy FUCKING HELL.
(Showing Page 1 of 4)
PsychoGecko  (The Guy In The Know) (Power Guru)
Replied on May 15, 2011:
Yeah, maybe just a little.  Fucking hell.  The MOON.  They PUT.  LEVIATHAN. ON.
THE. MOON.
Excuse me, just gonna have a bit of a cape-squee here for a bit.
Okay, better now.
That's Mover 12.  At minimum.
XxVoid_CowboyxX  (Temp-banned)
Replied on May 15, 2011:
Uh, are we sure they actually put him all the way on the moon?
Bagrat  (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 15, 2011:
Yes.
PsychoGecko  (The Guy In The Know) (Power Guru)
Replied on May 15, 2011:
Yes.  Seriously.  One minute Leviathan was tearing up downtown, the next he
wasn't there.  Telescopes have seen him on the moon.
HammerStein  (Cape Groupie)
Replied on May 15, 2011:
Does anyone know if Compass Rose is single?  I so want to date her.
Bagrat  (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 16, 2011:
Dude, I think she might be with Pathfinder, you know.  They're always holding
hands.
VictorCharlie  (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 16, 2011:
That's some serious badass.  Fly in, grab a fucking ENDBRINGER, and say, "hey,
you're not wanted here.  Have some time out.  On the fucking MOON."
DogbertIsMyGod  (The Guy In The Know)
Replied on May 17, 2011:
So does anyone else have any idea if they survived or not?
PsychoGecko  (The Guy In The Know) (Power Guru)
Replied on May 17, 2011:
Well, unless the jump *there* wore them out, they should have been able to jump
back.  Leaving Leviathan behind would have taken so much strain off of them.
XxVoid_CowboyxX  (Temp-banned)
Replied on May 17, 2011:
What I want to know is, why did Pathfinder even take Compass Rose with him? 
Why not just do a solo jump with Leviathan?  Why risk her life too?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
(Showing Page 2 of 4)
Panacea  (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)
Replied on May 17, 2011:
All I know is, they're the kindest people I've ever met.  Personally, I think
they survived.  Because that's the sort of people they are.
And Void Cowboy?  Compass Rose went along because she needed to.
Armsmaster  (Verified Cape) (Protectorate ENE)
Replied on May 17, 2011:
Miss Militia went along with them too; she was piloting the craft that they
were in.  We do not yet know their fate, but I worked alongside Miss Militia
for years, and she would have never hesitated an instant to carry out a
sacrifice like that.
Bagrat  (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 18, 2011:
And there you have it, folks.
Well, if they aren't back in a week, I'm gonna petition for one minute of
silence on the board for their memory, as well as any memorial service anyone
wants to put on.
XxVoid_CowboyxX  (Temp-banned)
Replied on May 18, 2011:
CENSORED
Herakles  (Moderator) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 18, 2011:
Okay, Void Cowboy, whether what you said is true or not, they're not proven
dead yet, so revealing information like that is not on.  Have a temp ban.
Bagrat  (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Holy shit.  They're alive.  THEY'RE ALIVE.
They made it back.
Thank god.
PsychoGecko  (Veteran Member) (Power Guru)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Holy shit.  This isn't a hoax, is it?  Tell me it's not a hoax.
CompassRose  (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Not a hoax.  We are back, and glad to be here.  I've been reading the nice
thoughts, and I have to say, thanks to you all for the kind words.  Pathfinder
says hi, too.
Panacea  (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Oh god yes, they're back, I am so glad.
GloryGirl  (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
What Amy said, in spades.  They've done so much for us, for all of us.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
(Showing Page 3 of 4)
Bagrat  (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Well, damn.  That's what I call a real classic back-from-the-dead.
So, gotta ask.  Rumors about how you did the same thing to Crawler, a while
back.  True, not true?
HammerStein  (Cape Groupie)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Uh, Compass Rose, I hope I didn't annoy you when I asked about your status
before.  Just wondering if you were open to a date any time.
CompassRose  (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Sorry, HS.  Not dating at the moment.  Recovering from what happened, really. 
Thanks for the sweet offer, though (smile)
DogbertIsMyGod  (The Guy In The Know)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Watch it, HammerStein.  Annoy Compass Rose too much, and Pathfinder'll put you
on the moon to keep Leviathan company.
(j/k)
PsychoGecko  (Veteran Member) (Power Guru)
Replied on May 19, 2011:
Haha.  He might, too.
KingdomCome
Replied on May 19, 2011:
So did they actually go to the moon, or just send Leviathan there, and stay
behind?  Just wondering.
Pathfinder  (Verified Cape) (Protectorate ENE)
Replied on May 20, 2011:
We went to the moon.  All the way.  Let me tell you, not a fun trip.  Wasn't
much fun coming back, either.
Of course, we had to drop off our luggage once we got there ...
Bagrat  (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 20, 2011:
Okay, I'm just gonna say, yeah.  I will shake your hand any time, sir.
MinionNumber21  (Verified PRT Agent) (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 20, 2011:
As for the Crawler rumors, yeah, that was them.  Consider it a dress rehearsal
for this one.
Tenebrae  (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied on May 20, 2011:
Brand new Wards member here.  Just want to say, thank you to Compass Rose and
Pathfinder.  For everything.  And glad that you're back.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
(Showing Page 4 of 4)
VictorCharlie  (Veteran Member)
Replied on May 20, 2011:
So, what are they gonna do next?  Teleport Nilbog the fuck off of America?  Or
just clean up the Boat Graveyard?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
 
Danny looked up from his phone and sat there, staring into space.  “Holy shit,”
he murmured.  “I could do that.  I really could.”
Just at that moment, the phone rang; the screen showing the PHO boards was
replaced by the standard phone screen.  The number was not one that he
recognised.
“Uh, hello?” he asked.
"Pathfinder?"  It was a woman's voice.
"Speaking."
“This is Carol Dallon."
"Brandish," he acknowledged.  "What can I do for you?"
"I need to speak to you about my daughter."  He could hear the angry overtones
in her voice.
"Which one?" he asked mildly.
"Victoria, of course!" she snapped.  "Amy is no daughter of mine."
“And why would that be?” he asked cheerfully.  He had an idea, of course; Amy
and Vicky had been quite forthcoming about their desire to move out of home,
and why.
Carol sputtered.  “She's a villain's daughter!  And now she's shown her true
colours, using her powers to seduce her sister!”
“I thought she wasn't your daughter,” Danny interrupted mildly.  “In any case,
how do you know that Vicky hasn't fallen in love with Amy the normal way?”
“Because Vicky's straight!” shouted Carol angrily.
“Victoria's sixteen,” Danny told Carol patiently.  “Kids of that age barely
know their own minds, let alone their own sexuality.  Experimentation is a
thing.  Bisexuality is a thing.  She may have gone out with boys because it
never occurred for her to ask herself if she was attracted to girls. 
Personally, I think they're very sweet together.  Is that what you wanted to
ask me?”
”No!” stormed Carol.  ”I insist that you send her back home immediately!”
“Just a moment,” Danny noted.  Without even bothering to stand up from the
couch, he teleported to the upstairs corridor, and knocked on the door to the
spare room.  From within, he heard the sounds of creaking bedsprings and
feminine pleasure.  He knocked again.
The sounds ceased, and after a few moments, the door opened.  A sweaty,
dishevelled and thoroughly flushed Victoria Dallon peered around the door. 
“Uh, Mr Hebert, hi,” she panted.  “Were we disturbing you?”
Danny smiled.  “Not in the slightest.  Your mother's on the phone.  She wants
to know why I haven't sent you home yet.”
Vicky rolled her eyes.  “Can I borrow that for a while?”
Danny shrugged.  “Be my guest.”  He handed it over and strolled back down the
corridor, hands in his pockets, whistling softly.  Behind him, the door closed.
 
“Mom,” Vicky snapped, putting the phone down beside the bed.  “I want you to
listen really carefully.”
Giggling, Amy sat up and caressed the penis which she had caused to grow from
Vicky's groin, stroking it until it was once more stiff and erect.  Then she
lay back, an expression of anticipation on her face.
Vicky poised over her, guiding her penis to Amy's softly moist vaginal
entrance.  Amy gasped as she felt it enter her, sliding between her labia, deep
into her slippery warmth.  Vicky began to thrust, slowly at first, then harder
and harder; Amy clutched at her and cried out in passion.
And Carol Dallon heard every cry, every squeak of the bedsprings, every grunt
and thrust.  She listened to her daughters, biological and foster, screwing one
another's brains out, and she blasted her own phone to fragments.
 
Going to his bedroom, Danny changed into his Pathfinder costume.  He didn't
need Taylor's assistance to travel across the city; he just preferred her to be
there.  But he wasn't going to be doing anything big with his powers, so he
decided to leave her in school.
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and he was gone.
 
The bus from the city pulled up at the stop, and Brian got off, along with
Aisha.  He hefted his bag over his shoulder and stepped out at a good pace; she
trotted alongside to keep up.
“Hey, you're all energetic today, big bro,” she teased him.  “Looking forward
to seeing Taylor and dat ass again, huh?”
He eyed her with mild irritation.  She grinned impudently back at him; she was
different since Leviathan, since Danny had started to impose discipline on her
life.  These days she wore less revealing clothing, and pushed boundaries
less.  But she still loved to niggle him, and knew exactly where to put the
screws in.
Besides, he couldn't deny it; he did want to see Taylor.  The way she moved,
the way she smiled.  Her movements were graceful, her body firm and inviting. 
The fact that she was having regular sex with Danny didn't detract from this
feeling; in a way, it heightened his attraction to her.
“Watch it, pest,” he told her, “or I'll tell Danny you're being an annoyance.”
She gave him the finger.  That was something else that hadn't changed.  “You do
and I'll go spend time with Alec,” she retorted.  “I've caught him checking me
out from time to time.”
He rolled his eyes.  He was almost certain Alec was having sex with his sister,
but there was no sense in pushing either one of them; Alec would deflect and
deny, while Aisha would either admit it and dare him to do his worst, or deny
it to his face.  So instead he quickened his pace.
“Hey, don't you walk away from me,” she challenged him, and increased her own
pace.  He moved it up a notch, and she followed suit.  Before they quite knew
it, they were in a race to the house, to see who could get there first.
Aisha was quicker off the mark, but Brian was fitter and had longer legs.  She
led for most of the distance, but he was quickly overhauling her by the time
the house came into view.  However, her lead was too great, and she slapped her
hand on the porch rail about half a second before he would have caught up. 
They both slumped to the ground, laughing breathlessly.
“Well,” she told him, “that means I get the first shower, then.”
“Don't use all the hot water,” he warned her.
“Will if I want to,” she retorted impudently.  “Key to get in?”
He stayed seated on the bottom step, the one he and Vicky had repaired after
she broke it while moving in.  Digging the key from his pocket, he handed it to
her and leaned aside so that she could climb the steps to the front door.
She opened the door and entered, leaving it ajar, the key in the lock.  He
remained where he was, relaxing and allowing himself to cool down.
Aisha and I haven't clowned around like that in years, he reflected.  There's
something to be said for going straight.
 
Danny stood beside the closest ship hulls; Leviathan's attack had driven many
of them on to the shore, damaging the docksides as they did so.  But docks
could be rebuilt. If the ships could be moved …
Taylor and I moved a ship to drop on Lung.
He teleported to the top of the nearest hull, then looked over the mass of
entangled, crushed, rusting metal.  In small purple-brown bursts, he jumped
from one hull to the next, looking at the damage, getting a feel for the task.
It's possible, he told himself.  It's definitely possible.
 
“Shower's free!”
Brian turned his head.  “Thanks.  Any warm water left?”
“Nope,” she told him.  “All gone.  Used the lot.”  He heard her flop on to one
of the sofas, and the TV came on.
“Would not be surprised,” he muttered, climbing to his feet.  He pulled the key
from the door and closed it behind him.
 
Taylor got off the bus and started trudging home.
She didn't know it, but she had missed seeing Brian and Aisha by just minutes. 
Their impromptu race had opened the lead a little; just long enough, in fact,
for Aisha to finish in the shower.  Thus, she didn't quite see it when Brian
got up off the step and went inside.
It would have been nice to get Dad to teleport me home.  But her link with
Danny told her that he was up at the Boat Graveyard, and he was concentrating
on a problem, so she decided to let him be.
She let herself into the house, kicking off her shoes in the front hall. 
Entering the living room, she nodded to Aisha, who was curled up on one of the
sofas, watching TV.
 
“Hey,” Aisha responded.  “How's school?”
Taylor shrugged.  “Not too much water damage.  You'd barely know Leviathan had
been here at all.  How's the PRT building?”
Aisha made a rude noise with her lips.  “Poking, prodding, power tests.  And
they're gonna enrol me in school too.”
Taylor grinned.  “All part of the rounded education.  Just gonna take a
shower.”
Aisha shrugged.  “Be my guest.”  Taylor's footsteps were halfway up the stairs
before Aisha recalled that Brian was already in the shower.
Should I tell her?
A wicked grin creased her lips.
Nah.
 
Taylor grabbed clothes from her room, and headed for the bathroom.  She opened
the door just as the shower came on.
Whoops.
Her first instinct was to back out, apologising.  Then her second thoughts
kicked in.  Who is it, anyway?  There were only so many options.
Danny was still at the Boat Graveyard.
Aisha was downstairs.
Vicky and Amy?  On their bed, in the spare room.
Brian?
The image that she got was … compelling.  A Greek god, rendered in anthracite. 
Complete in every detail, with a penis that … oh my god.  He had his hand on
it, stroking it.  Her eyes watered, just thinking about it.
Desire flushed through her body.  Had she been a blushing virgin, had she not
spent many sweaty nights making vigorous love to her own father, she may have
hesitated.  But she did not.  I know what I want.  And I want that.
Dropping her clean clothes on to the washstand, she began peeling out of her
own clothes.
 
The shower/tub setup had a sliding translucent shower screen.  Brian wasn't
really aware that anyone was in the bathroom with him; he'd been aware that the
door had opened and closed, but had not thought much of it.  House with one
bathroom, that'll happen.
The hot water – Aisha had left him some, after all – washed over his skin,
taking away the sweat and grime of the day.  It felt comfortable.  It felt
good.  And something else felt good too; not for the first time, he was
fantasising about Taylor, about her body, and his cock was getting hard.
Well, this is as good a place as any to jack off.  Closing his hand around his
shaft, he began to work it back and forth, closing his eyes to summon an image
of Taylor in all her glory, naked but for drifting wisps of fog.
His first indication that something was untoward came when the shower screen
slid aside.  His eyes flew open, and then Taylor stepped into the tub with him.
“Well, hi there,” she murmured, her slender fingers joining his hand on the
thick erection jutting from his loins.  “You look like you could do with … a
hand.”
He grunted with surprise.  “God – Taylor – you shouldn't -”
“Shouldn't what?” she purred, rubbing her body – now wet with by the shower
spray – over his, her firm breasts pressing against him, her erect nipples
dragging against his skin.  Her free hand caressed his back, squeezed his
muscular ass.  “Shouldn't be in here?  Shouldn't be touching you?  Shouldn't be
sucking your cock?”
With her last words, she sank to her knees, and brought the head of his penis
to her lips.  Brian stared down at the unbearably erotic sight of her wet hair
clinging to her rounded breasts, as she let out the tip of her tongue to taste
his precum.  She grinned wickedly up at him.  “Just say the word, and I'll
stop.”
He did not say a single word.
Slowly, she opened her mouth and engulfed his thickness, the rampant hardness
that was his manhood.  He groaned hollowly as he felt her lips sliding down his
shaft, his cock pressing farther and farther into her mouth, into her throat. 
She swallowed convulsively as she sucked on him, the muscular contractions
heightening his pleasure.
He leaned back against the wall of the cubicle, one hand on her head, the other
clinging to the shower fixture, as his cock was sucked so very thoroughly.  No
other girl he had been with had been able to take his entire length in her
mouth; Taylor was doing so.  Only when her chin was in contact with his heavy,
dangling scrotum did she stop her forward advance.
His brain was sparking off with so much pleasure that he didn't know if he was
upright, lying down, or last Tuesday.  All he knew was that Taylor's mouth was
doing things to his cock that should have been illegal, or at least heavily
taxed.
When he came, the sheer blinding ecstasy rolled his eyes back in his head and
caused his knees to buckle altogether.  He lost his grip on the shower fixture,
and he slumped to the floor of the tub, while his hips bucked and a line of
fire down his cock blasted wad after wad of thick jism deep into Taylor
Hebert's throat.
By the time he opened his eyes again, she was grinning at him from a distance
of six inches.  She kissed him; he responded avidly, feeling her crawl on top
of him, rubbing her breasts on his chest once more.
“Like that, did you?” she murmured, tracing her nails down his chest.
“Oh god, yes,” he groaned.  “How did you learn how to do all that?”
She nibbled his ear, causing him to arch his back.  “Lots and lots of
practice,” she giggled.  “Now, I think it's your turn.”  She climbed off of
him, and sat up on the edge of the tub.  Spreading her legs, she gave him his
first good look at her sex.
She was clean shaven, and her labia were softly pink and delicate-looking. 
Reaching down, she used two fingers to lewdly spread the outer labia, and
revealed all to his hungry gaze.  His cock jumped, hardening again already.  It
wanted to be inside her as much as he did.
Sitting up, he lifted her from her perch, bringing her a standing position
before him.  She lifted one leg and curled it around his neck as he brought his
face up to her sweetly-smelling centre.
 
Taylor gasped as his tongue began its first exploratory forays into her
delicate womanhood.  He definitely knew his way around the district; she moaned
as he flicked delicately at her clitoris, and arched her back when his finger
slid into her tight pussy opening.
He ate her out, lifting her on a steadily increasing bubble of pleasure,
driving her higher and higher toward her goal.  His lips, tongue, teeth, all
played a part; her panting came harder, deeper, harsher, as he pleasured her
relentlessly.  She braced herself with one hand on his head, the other
squeezing and pinching her breasts, her nipples.
When she came, it was only his arm around her legs that kept her upright; she
convulsed, arching her back, crying out as she climaxed again and again, his
busy mouth on her pulsating vagina keeping her going, over and over again.
She was weak and shaking by the time he finally let her come down from that
high plateau of orgasmic pleasure; she collapsed to her knees beside him, and
held him close.  “Oh god,” she murmured.  “Oh god.  That was … insane.”  The
only man who had done it better was Danny, and that only because of their link.
As in a dream, she felt him standing, lifting her with him.  Pressing her back
against the cubicle wall, kissing her, caressing her body.
She did not resist; in point of fact, she actively responded.  When he lifted
her from her feet, she opened her thighs, wrapping them around his waist.  She
felt his thick penis pressing against her vulva, seeking her soft, yielding
entrance, her wet and willing vaginal passage.
She had begun this as the aggressor, but he had taken the initiative now, he
was calling the shots.  She kissed him as the head of his cock pressed into
her, slid between her labia.  Penetrated her.  She arched her back and moaned
as she felt his thickness opening her up, stretching her tight young vaginal
passage, driving deep into her, filling her so deeply.
She clung to him as he began to thrust into her; her nails dug into his back. 
His thrusting started slow, gentle, loving, but the tempo soon changed.  Deeper
and harder the strokes came, ramming steadily into her, over and over.  He
panted as he worked his hips, his thick cock driving up into her hot wet
slippery depths.
 
When she bit him on the neck, he arched his back and redoubled his tempo.  She
was so tight, so hot, so wet, so abandoned.  Her legs were wrapped around his
waist, her arms around his neck.  She responded to every thrust with a cry of
passion, with kisses and bites that inflamed his arousal even more.
He had never, not ever, had sex this good before.  She bucked into his strokes,
so that he felt that he was penetrating to her very core, her hot wetness
swallowing his cock, affording him the utmost of pleasure.  He grunted as he
thrust into her, feeling his climax coming up.
She came first, crying out, clenching around him, arching her back.  And then
again, and again.  Her vaginal canal clutched at him, making his eyes cross
with the sensation.
And then, finally, he came.
It was a near-apocalyptic event; he felt that the world was coming apart around
him.  He rammed his cock as far up into her as possible, and unleashed jet
after jet of cum inside her.  She cried out again and again as he came, filling
her with his hot seed.  And he kept fucking her, kept thrusting into her, until
every last drop of semen was inside her, and his cock was starting to soften.
They subsided to their knees on the floor of the tub; slowly, almost
erotically, his length slid out of her.  She smiled at him, and kissed him
lightly on the lips.
“That was amazing, Brian,” she murmured.
He shook his head.  “I can't believe we just did that,” he replied.  “I really
can't.”
She giggled.  “I can.  And it was wonderful.  If you ever want to sneak into
the bathroom while I'm having a shower … “
He didn't need for her to finish the sentence.  “What about your dad?”
She shrugged.  “Oh, he's cool with it.”  Another giggle.  “Just make sure he's
not in here with me first.”  A pause, as she tilted her head.  “Hm.  Maybe he
might be up for a threesome.  Or a foursome, with Miss Militia.  If you were
interested, of course.”
“Miss Militia?”  He gulped.  “That could be … interesting.”
Her lips curved in a razor-edged smile.  “That's one way to put it.”  She stood
up.  “Wow, my knees are still wobbly.  But the water's starting to run cold.”
Turning off the taps, they got out of the shower cubicle.  After the sex they'd
just had, they were able to dry off without doing more than grabbing the
occasional feel, but Brian knew that this was not the last time that he would
have sex with Taylor Hebert.
***** Urban Renewal *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny gets his wish, and there is character interaction, both at home
     and at school.
“I really think it could work.” Danny waved his fork, heedless of the piece of
steak impaled on the tines, as he spoke animatedly. “We just go in as
Pathfinder and Compass Rose, and we move the ships to a place where they won't
be in the way. Maybe an artificial breakwater, maybe further out to sea. All
I'd need is for the Mayor to sign off on it.”

“Now I'd pay money to see that,” Aisha declared, somehow not letting the act of
speaking interfere with her eating. “It'd be like the time you dropped that
ship on Lung, and saved big bro.” She grinned. “That woulda been so cool, the
look on his face when he saw that fuckin' great ship just falling out of the
sky on top of him. BAM!” She smacked her hand down on the table, making
everyone jump.

Amy's glass toppled and began to fall, then disappeared in a puff of purple-
brown smoke. At the same instant, it reappeared in Danny's hand. A moment
later, it moved again, from Danny's hand back to Amy's place at the table. She
looked startled; he grinned.

“Aisha, geez, seriously?” Brian shook his head, looking at his sister. “Can we
get through just one meal without everything ending up on the floor?”

Aisha rolled her eyes. “Okay, geez, sorree.” Then she met Danny's eyes, and a
lot of the cockiness drained out of her. “Sorry, Mr Hebert,” she mumbled.
“Won't do it again.”

Danny nodded to her. “That's all right,” he replied evenly. “Just don't do it
again, all right? And if you could mind the swearing, too, please?”

She nodded back. “Sure thing. But it'd be like that, right?”

“Yeah, it'd be like that,” Taylor told her, with a grin at Brian. He returned
it, but she was already looking at Danny. “One problem I see, though. Mayor
Christner knows how much you want to get the northern docks up and running
again, and Pathfinder asking to deal with the Boat Graveyard – or what's left
of it, since Leviathan came calling – would raise flags all over the place. How
do you do it without outing yourself?”

“She's got a point,” Amy commented from the other end of the table. “Vicky and
me, we can push for things in our civilian identities because we've been
unmasked since day one. But I've seen first-hand how other capes have to keep
their superhero and civilian identities separate; if someone really has it in
for you, dropping a clue like this could open a whole can of worms.”

“'S'right,” Vicky mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. She swallowed, and
continued. “Sorry. But yeah, Amy's got it right. I met Dean a few times when he
was out in civilian identity – Mom being a big-name lawyer and all – and we had
to be carefully polite, because everyone knew that Glory Girl was Gallant's
girlfriend. So if we, you know, hugged or kissed in public, they'd be all over
that.”

Danny frowned. “You're right. Some of those guys would jump on that in a
heartbeat.” He looked at the faces around the table. “Okay. We're all
superheroes here -”

“ - not one yet,” Aisha interjected cheekily.

“ - or superheroes in training,” Danny continued without missing a beat.
“Taylor, you and I are in the Protectorate. Amy, Vicky, you've got experience
in being independents. Brian, you've got a few years' experience as a villain.
Aisha, you're just plain devious.”

Aisha grinned at him. “Damn right.”

Danny ignored the swearword. “So, between the six of us, if we can't figure out
a way to sell this without outing me, I'd be extremely surprised. Suggestions?”

Silence fell, as five agile minds mulled the problem over.

Aisha shrugged. “Just do it. Anyone asks, you say you thought it was a good
idea.”

Brian shook his head. “Aisha … “

“No, it's a good start,” Danny told him, then turned to Aisha. “But while I can
see why you're suggesting it – it would definitely work as an excuse
for you, after all – it really wouldn't fly for me.”

“I could talk to Mom,” Victoria proposed. “Assuming that our last argument
didn't burn all our bridges, that is. Maybe she'd have some suggestions.”

“Actually, maybe we should just talk to the Director,” Taylor mused. “After
Leviathan, I'm fairly sure she thinks we walk on water.”

“Hm.” Danny thought that over. “You know, maybe that's not a bad idea.”

“Yeah,” Aisha put in. “If Miss Piggy suggests it -” She broke off as Danny
glanced sharply at her. “What?”

“Please don't use that nickname for Director Piggot again,” he requested. “It's
rude and unpleasant.”

She squirmed in her seat, not enjoying the admonishment. “I didn't make it up,”
she mumbled. “Heard a couple of Wards.”

“Hmm.” Danny rubbed his chin. “It's still not a nice thing to say about her.
After all, she could have said no when I offered you and Brian a place to
live.”

She blinked. “Shit. She could too. Uh, sorry.”

He nodded, accepting the apology. “But you're right. If Director Piggot made
the suggestion, phrasing it to 'get rid of that eyesore', then Christner
wouldn't have much choice but to let it happen.”

Taylor frowned. “What? Why would he even oppose it?”

“It's not so much the Boat Graveyard, as reopening the ferry,” he explained.
“The administration shut it down years ago, when the gangs were really starting
to expand into Brockton Bay. They used the excuse that the ferry made it too
easy for criminal types, such as drug dealers, to move from one end of the city
to the other. Now that situation's settled down, but the money that would be
normally used for the ferry is now being used for the pet project of the
moment.”

“Wow,” Brian commented. “And I thought being a villain was evil.”

“I've occasionally wondered why capes don't actually run for office,” Danny
noted. “Especially Thinkers.”

“It's the red tape,” Vicky replied wisely. “They'd much rather a problem they
can punch, or shoot with a big-ass raygun.”

Amy giggled, Brian and Taylor chuckled, and Aisha laughed out loud. But Danny
nodded. “I do believe that you may have the right of it there,” he mused. “Cape
powers are designed to solve problemsfast. Tinkers build things in their
workshops, by eye, that would take a team of engineers a decade to even come up
with a preliminary design for. Thinkers routinely solve problems that would
have a think-tank of normals scratching their heads. But run that into the
stone wall that is bureaucracy …” He shook his head.

“So you'll talk to her about it?” asked Taylor.

Danny nodded. “Sure thing, kiddo. Tomorrow, I guess. If I approached her
tonight, she might get a little annoyed, and it can wait a day.”

“Good idea,” Brian agreed. “Oh, and Aisha, just so you don't disappear at the
end of the meal, it's our turn to do the dishes tonight.”

Aisha wrinkled her nose at him. “You suck.”

Taylor grinned and put an arm around her briefly, ignoring her squeak of
surprise. “Cheer up. We got raspberry swirl for dessert.”

Aisha's eyes opened wider. “Oh, uh, finished,” she declared. “Can we have
dessert now?”

“Not until you actually eat all the food you piled on your plate, earlier,”
Danny responded. He'd learned not to use phrases such as 'clear your plate'
with her. It generally got cleared into whatever receptacle Aisha felt was most
convenient.

Aisha knew not to argue; she applied herself to eating once more, and she
didn't say another word until her plate was actually clear. Brian and Taylor
shared a grin; it was perhaps fortunate that she didn't catch them at it.

===============================================================================

Taylor lay in bed with Danny, one leg thrown over his, her head resting on his
chest. She felt his arm, warm and strong around her, and she enjoyed the
closeness and intimacy. He did also; they could feel one another's emotions
like that, and they fed off, and reinforced, one another.

“So, Brian, huh?” he murmured into the post-coital bliss that had enveloped the
both of them.

“Mmm, yeah,” she agreed. “Just walked into the bathroom, and he was jacking off
in the shower. And I couldn't let that slide.”

“I know,” he replied, his hand sliding down to cup her firm, rounded buttocks.
“I could feel what he was doing to you. You certainly enjoyed it.”

She roused herself to crawl a little farther up his chest, until she could kiss
his proffered lips. “I sure as hell did,” she told him, her breasts pressing
warmly against his skin. “If I'd met him before I started having sex with you …
we may not have needed to get together.”

“Really?” he murmured, his hands becoming more busy on her person. She giggled
and began to return the attentions. “So he's all that, huh?”

“Well, not compared to you, of course,” she conceded, dragging her nails down
the length of his hardening shaft. “But he does possess ... oooh … a certain
level of native talent.”

She felt herself being rolled on to her back; as the sheet was lifted off of
her, she smiled up at him in the near-darkness, opening herself to him,
welcoming him. He got on top of her; they embraced and kissed, bodies moving
together in that ancient rhythm. She was already wet for him; when his penis
pressed against her warm, slippery entrance, he slid into her without demur.

“Nnnngh,” she grunted, feeling his length penetrating to the very hilt within
her hot, wet depths. “It's better every time.”

“Always,” he breathed.

He began to move atop her, thrusting slowly at first and then more and more
strongly. Under him, she moaned his name, scoring his back with her nails, as
her body reacted to his, reacted to what he was doing with her, to her.

Her first orgasm came as a surprise to the both of them, but it was only the
first of many.

===============================================================================

The Next Day

“The Boat Graveyard.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Danny replied. He was in full Pathfinder costume, standing before
Director Piggot's desk.

“You want to … clear it.” The Director seemed to be having trouble with the
concept.

“I believe I can, ma'am.” He paused. “After all … Lung.”

She fixed him with a firm gaze. “Believe me, I will never, ever forget what you
did to Lung. I don't think anyone will.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny agreed. “But I'm not doing it to show off. I want to do it
to clean up that area. Show that it can be fixed up, that Lord's Port can be
brought back into operation. Reopen the ferry. Bring jobs back into that part
of the city. I'm chairman of the Dock Worker's Association, but some days it
feels like it's in name only.” He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to let
the frustration bleed off. It wasn't the Director's fault, after all.

“I do hear what you're saying, Pathfinder,” the Director noted. “It's a good
idea. And the Graveyard is indeed an eyesore on the city.” She tilted her head.
“But why do you need me to speak for you in this matter?”

“Because I've been pushing for improvement in that area for years,” Danny told
her. “Mainly, getting the ferry back into operation, but as Chairman, to get
more work for the Dock Workers. If Lord's Port can be reopened, that will be a
step forward. The Docks gets more money coming into it, people move back in,
police start actually patrolling, crime rate drops … “

“ … and the PRT's job gets easier, yes, I get it,” the Director noted. “But you
don't want to be seen to be suggesting it as Pathfinder, because too many
people would connect you to your civilian identity.”

He nodded. “Fortunately, someone's already suggested it on the PHO forums, so
you could easily mention it to the Mayor, and put it out there that you're
willing to let me give it a try. After all, the whole concept of keeping our
joined power level under wraps is blown since Leviathan.”

“That could work,” she decided. “I'll raise it this afternoon. I've got a
meeting with Christner then.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Director,” he told her. “I really appreciate this.”

“No, Pathfinder, thank you,” she replied. “It's rare that I see a cape wanting
to use his power to do something as mundane as urban renewal. Normally, it's
destructive, rather than fixing something.”

“You have a point,” he admitted. “I guess it might be because I got my powers
later than most; teenagers are dangerous enough without powers.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, god,” she muttered. “You have no idea.”

He grinned. “Which is why I vastly prefer my job to yours. Even though all
of my charges are well over drinking age, and indeed have the frequent habit of
getting into bar fights.”

Try as she might, Piggot could not stop a reluctant grin from crossing her
face. “Oh, get out of here,” she snorted.

A nod in her direction, and purple-brown smoke billowed up around him; when it
dissipated, he was gone.

He's a good man, she mused, even if he is a cape. He's definitely dedicated to
the job, and to Compass Rose. This is the least I can do for him.

Her computer pinged as a message dropped into her inbox. With a suppressed
sigh, she turned back to the ever-renewing stack of paperwork, both hardcopy
and electronic.

Well, when I accepted this job, I knew it wouldn't be for the entertainment
value.

===============================================================================

“Hey, Taylor, wait up!”

She stopped and turned at Dean's shout. Other heads had turned as his voice
echoed up and down the school corridor, but they quickly lost interest.

“What's up?” she asked, as he jogged up to her.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he panted.

“Just one minute,” she told him. “I've got class to get to.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “It's about Vicky.”

“Oh god,” she realised. “She only just recently broke up with you, didn't she?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Look, I just need to know. It was for Amy, wasn't it? Not
someone else?”

She paused, frowning. “Do you … want … it to be Amy?”

“Look, I don't want it to be anyone,” he told her, throwing up his arms. “I
want us to still be together. But if it is going to be someone else, I want it
to be someone like Amy, who's known Vicky like forever, and who I know loves
her, and who Vicky loves back. Not someone who came along five minutes ago.”

Taylor nodded. “I get your reasoning. And yes, it's Amy. She and Vicky …
they're pretty happy.”

“Oh.” His gaze dropped. “Good. I mean, not great. But … good. I guess.”

Taylor put her hand on his arm. “Look,” she told him softly. “You don't have to
push yourself to be happy for them.”

He blinked. “What? But -”

“Expecting you to be happy about this sort of thing is silly,” she pointed out.
“It's a big wrench for you. So feel free to be unhappy, disappointed, all that.
But they didn't mean to hurt you, so don't go taking it out on them, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I get it. And thanks.”

She smiled. “You're welcome. I know what it's like to lose a friendship.”

“I guess you do.” He paused. “Hey, how would you like to come out for pizza or
something, sometime?”

“I … what?” She blinked, startled. “Like … a date?”

“Heh, no. I know you're spoken for.” He smiled. “Bring someone. I will, too. We
can just hang, and eat pizza. Be friends.”

Slowly, she nodded. “I think … I'd like that.” Her smile answered his. “Okay,
we'll do it. But right now, I gotta get to class.”

She hurried off; he watched her go. Thanks, Taylor, for reminding me that I
still have friends.

===============================================================================

“When's he getting here?” asked Mayor Christner. He adjusted the hard-hat that
he wore; Paul Renick understood that the hat had never seen an actual day of
use, but that the Mayor kept it in the back of his closet to wear on occasions
such as this. Renick suspected that he actually polished it.

“I agreed to let this go ahead, and we're all here,” continued Christner. “So
where's Pathfinder?” He turned to Renick. “Deputy Director, can't you do
something? And why couldn't the Director attend, anyway? She's the one who
pushed for this.”

“Director Piggot had other matters that she had to attend to,” Renick
replied. And she's got better things to do than to stand around in the sun with
a bunch of politicians, he carefully did not add.Apparently that's my job. “And
as for Pathfinder ...”

Purple-brown smoke billowed next to them; when it dissipated, the imposing
figure of Pathfinder was standing there, hand in hand with Compass Rose. Renick
silently blessed every deity he could think of; that appearance had been
perfectly timed with his words.

“Mayor Christner,” Pathfinder noted with a nod. “Deputy Director Renick.” He
let go Compass Rose's hand, and shook their hands. “Sorry about the delay;
there was a house fire.” He did not elaborate, but Renick was sure he'd see it
on the news later. Renick noted that he had the chin-piece of his helmet
attached; this gave his voice a slightly hollow sound.

Now that the guest of honour had arrived, Christner was all smiles. “Well, it's
good to see you, sir.” He turned toward the news crews, who had perked up
considerably upon the arrival of actual superheroes at the scene of a proposed
superhero event. Christner shook Pathfinder's hand again for the cameras, and
then shook Compass Rose's as well. He launched into a speech, which Renick
tuned out, while managing to look interested for anyone who was actually
watching him; it was a talent of his.

While Christner droned on, Renick glanced around surreptitiously. Perhaps fifty
or sixty people had turned up to rubberneck; he didn't know how word had gotten
around so fast, save by Christner's media corps. There were a few people from
the Mayor's office, including the guy in charge of public works; Renick didn't
know his name and hadn't been introduced to him. Pathfinder and Compass Rose
merely stood there, facing the cameras, once more holding hands.

Renick didn't quite know why they did that all the time; he had an idea that it
had to do with the way their powers worked. Or maybe that they really didn't
like being out of contact with each other. In any case, it wasn't a problem.
And even if it was a problem, it wasn't his problem; Emily had made it quite
clear that Compass Rose and Pathfinder were a team. If Pathfinder went with the
Protectorate, Compass Rose came along. If Compass Rose went with the Wards,
Pathfinder came along. End of story.

Not that he had an issue with that; he knew some of the things that the duo had
gotten up to, and was not going to argue with how they got things done. Not in
the slightest.

Christner eventually ran out of things to say, and turned to the pair of capes.
“Well, then,” he declared. “You know where the wrecks are to go?”

Pathfinder nodded. “We've seen the plans, yes.” Compass Rose nodded in
agreement.

The Mayor smiled broadly. “Well then, shall we get to it?”

Renick bridled slightly; Christner was trying to give the impression
that he gave orders to the Protectorate. But then Pathfinder looked his way.
“Deputy Director. Do I have your permission to proceed?”

Hiding a smile, Renick nodded. “Yes, you do. Proceed.” And nicely done.

Purple-brown smoke billowed, and then they were gone. They reappeared on top of
one of the ships. There was a pause, and then the entire ship was enveloped in
the cloud of smoke. Out to sea, on the line of the proposed artificial reef,
there was a tremendous splash.

And then another ship disappeared. And another.

As the first of the choppy waves began to break on shore, symptomatic of the
tonnages of metal being dropped into the ocean, Deputy Director Paul Renick let
himself smile for the cameras.

Oh, yeah. That's how we do it.
***** Complications *****
Chapter Summary
     Home life at the Heberts'. Taylor and Brian get it on, then Taylor
     asks Brian for a date. Taylor gets it on with Danny, then they
     discover Amy and Vicky getting it on in the kitchen. Taylor has an
     encounter with Madison at school, then there's an emergency call-in
     to the Wards.
Morning, Danny reflected, was hectic enough without having four extra teenagers
living under one's roof. Jockeying for a chance to have a shower before school
– or going on duty with the Wards, in Brian's case – had been subtle but
intense. Fortunately, Taylor had taken up running every morning, and Amy and
Brian were running with her; this gave Danny, Vicky and Aisha a chance to get
showered before they returned.

It was fortunate that the PRT, while unable or unwilling to spring for off-base
accommodation, were granting him a stipend toward their room and board. This
altered the living arrangements from impossible to merely problematic. However,
as soon as Brian turned eighteen – which would, as it happened, occur within a
few days of Taylor turning sixteen – he would be able to move out with Aisha,
into his own place; this would take a lot of pressure off the situation.

Until then, or until Amy and Vicky found a place to move into, the pressure
would remain. On the upside, he had lucked upon a reasonably responsible bunch
of teens with whom to share his house.

Brian was as serious as Aisha was rambunctious; while the younger girl tended
to act out on occasion, all that her brother needed to bring her into line was
a reminder of where she had been, before moving to the Hebert household. She
was respectful toward Danny, and he took care to not treat her as a child.
While she still forgot not to swear from time to time, he understood that it
took time to lose that sort of habit.

Amy and Vicky, on the other hand, were utterly devoted to one another, and
worked hard at not being a problem; any chores that they took on were done
quickly, quietly and competently. He could not fault them; they kept their room
clean, the floors were swept, the dishes done, the laundry washed and hung out,
all usually while he was at work.

Aisha and Brian took their turn at chores as well; while Aisha wasn't
exactly lazy, she tended to be slapdash in the way she did it. Danny understood
and recognised that she had a short attention span, and generally got her to do
those things that didn't take long to do. Brian, on the other hand, got the job
done right every time. He even volunteered as cook from time to time.

Of course, in the kitchen, there was usually room for only one cook at a time,
so nobody could really help Danny cook breakfast. The exception was Taylor;
they never bumped into one another, never got in each others' way. Each of them
knew where the other was, at all times, without even thinking about it.

But even when Taylor was on her run, as she was now, he was able to use his
powers to speed up the cooking of breakfast. Spatulas and forks came to his
hand at a thought; bacon went from packet to hand to pan, and filled plates
went from his hand to the table just as fast as they were prepared.

Aisha blinked as a plate of bacon and eggs appeared before her in a puff of
purple-brown smoke; an instant later, he had brought a knife and fork from the
drawer to his hand, and sent them on to the table on either side of the plate.
He was already sorting out the next plate by the time she managed to speak.

“I gotta say, Mr Hebert, even though I've been living here a while, watching
you teleport stuff around like that still weirds me out.”

“Why's that, Aisha?” he asked idly, bringing an egg to his hand and cracking it
over the pan.

She sliced off a piece of egg white and swallowed it before continuing; while
nobody had cracked down on her for talking with her mouth full, she had
actually made an effort to fit in, manners-wise. It was still very much a work
in progress, but he had to admit that she was doing her best.

“I dunno. I didn't grow up with powers. Nobody I knew had powers, till Brian
triggered. I guess I'm used to seeing capes punching each other out on TV, or
rogues using powers to make craploads of money.” She gestured toward where he
was working at the stove. “I never seen anyone using a power like yours to do
something simple like cook breakfast.”

“You never saw anyone,” he corrected her. “Saw, not seen. But your point is
valid. Most parahumans who get powers, they seem to think 'how can I make
money' or 'where's the nearest villain, I want to punch him'.”

“What's this about punching villains?” asked Vicky, entering the kitchen while
still towelling her hair.

“I was just talking to Mr Hebert about how weird it is to see him using his
powers to make breakfast.”

“Well, powers can be good for that sort of thing, or they can be utterly
useless,” Vicky noted as she sat down; a moment later, a plate and cutlery
appeared in front of her. “Oh, thanks. I grew up in a cape household; sometimes
powers came in handy, but most of the time they're just good for smacking bad
guys around.”

“And thus, my point,” Danny observed, then paused. “They're on the way back.”

Neither of them chose to comment on that; they knew about his deep and abiding
connection to Taylor. Aisha was more than half done as it was; she kept eating
while Vicky traded casual small talk with Danny.

Just as Aisha got up to put her plate in the sink, the side gate twanged; a
moment later, the back door opened. The other three members of the household
trooped in, in various stages of sweaty exhaustion. “I'll go shower, you guys
eat,” Taylor told them.

“Works for me,” Brian agreed; he sat down, and Danny 'ported a plate in front
of him. Amy stopped beside Vicky's chair to give her sister a hug and a kiss,
then stole some bacon from her plate. In the meantime, Taylor stepped up next
to Danny; he turned just in time to kiss her, then went back to cooking while
she headed upstairs.

“So how was the run?” asked Danny, sliding bacon and egg on to a plate for Amy.

“Pretty good,” Brian reported. “Taylor's doing well, and Amy's coming along
nicely.” He got the orange juice pitcher from the fridge and poured juice for
himself, Amy and Danny.

“Amy is staggering along at the back of the pack,” Amy retorted, trying and
failing to slap Vicky's hand as she stole a piece of bacon in revenge. “But
Taylor and Brian seem to think it's a good idea, so I'll keep doing it.”

Finally, Danny sat down at the table with his own breakfast; Taylor's bacon and
eggs sat on the stove, the heat turned down so that it did not burn. “It's
definitely a good idea,” he agreed. “If you don't have a power that gives you a
good chance of evading your enemies, then building up your stamina so that you
can run away is always worthwhile.”

Amy poked her fork at Brian. “Mister muscles here doesn't seem to need to worry
about either running away or building up his stamina. Every time we stopped to
let me catch my breath, he did push-ups. Push-ups!” She managed to sound mildly
insulted.

Brian shrugged. “I like to stay fit. Sue me.” He grinned broadly at Amy, his
teeth very white against his dark skin. “Pretty soon you'll be keeping up, and
then we'll start you on the push-ups too.”

"Oh god," Amy groaned, so theatrically that Danny strongly suspected that she
was putting it on, "no way. It's not going to happen."

"What's the matter, Ames?" teased Vicky. "Pushups are easy."

"Says the girl who can bench press a Mack truck, and fly," retorted Amy.

“Well, I didn't say they were easy for you.” Vicky grinned as Amy stuck her
tongue out at her.

Danny looked up as he noted that Taylor was moving along the corridor to their
shared bedroom. “Shower's free.”

Brian looked at Amy. “Want to go next?”

“No, it's good.” She glanced at Vicky. “We're staying to do the dishes, and
then Vicky's flying me to school. So you can go now.”

“Okay, thanks.” He scraped up the last of his egg and finished his orange
juice. “And thanks for breakfast, Mr Hebert.”

“You're welcome, Brian.” Danny kept eating as Brian put his plate in the sink
and left the room. He glanced at Aisha, who was leaning back in her chair,
nibbling on the last piece of toast. “So how are things at school these days,
anyway?”

“Eh, so-so,” she admitted. “Not great, but not horrible.”

“Not using your powers to duck out on classes?” he prodded gently.

“Uh, no,” she replied; he was pretty sure she was lying.

He sighed. “Aisha. It's good to be able to go to school. You learn things that
you wouldn't have learned, otherwise.”

“I can do that outside school,” she pointed out.

“Such as?” he asked incautiously.

She ticked off on her fingers. “Where the Merchants keep their stashes. What
Director Piggot does in her spare time. Who's fucking who in the Empire Eighty-
Eight, and how they like it when I put itching powder in their underwear
drawers and smear tabasco sauce on their sex toys.”

Danny willed himself not to react too obviously. Amy and Vicky were staring
wide-eyed at Aisha. “You did that?” asked Vicky, looking very impressed.

“'Course,” Aisha confirmed. “It was easy.”

“And incredibly risky,” Danny replied, working to keep his voice even. “What if
they decided to catch you, and set a bomb with an electric eye trigger?”

“Yeah, well, I'm not going back,” Aisha assured him. “I bet Rune's pissed,
though.”

“Itching powder?” he asked, thinking he knew what the answer would be.

Grinning, she nodded. “That, and I swiped her stash of boy-on-boy porn
magazines. Yum, yum.”

                                     <><>

Robe-clad, Taylor peeked out through the barely-open bedroom door as the
footsteps reached the top of the stairs. It sounded too heavy for Amy, which
meant that it was Brian. She was right; a moment later, he came into view,
reaching for the bathroom door.

“Brian!” she called softly, opening the door. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” he agreed, turning from the bathroom door and approaching her doorway.
She opened the door wider and stepped back, gesturing for him to enter.

He did so readily enough; she pushed the door closed, then shoved him against
the wall. Pulling him down to her level, she kissed him, hard. He responded;
she let her robe fall open. His hands didn't take long to discover that she was
naked under it.

“Mmm,” he murmured; Taylor thrust her thigh between his legs, felt him
hardening in his shorts. He slid his large hands up to cup her firm, rounded
breasts. When he tweaked the nipples, she growled deep in her throat and tugged
him back toward the bed.

“I don't know what I've done to deserve this," he murmured between kisses, "but
I'm not arguing."

She let the robe slide from her shoulders; naked, she dropped to her knees
before him. Under her insistent tugging, his shorts slid down, along with his
underwear; his erection sprang out, almost all the way to full thickness and
hardness.

"I've been watching that sexy butt of yours all the way through the run," she
growled, running her nails up and down his swelling shaft. "And when you were
doing your push-ups. You know that muscles like yours are like catnip for me,
don't you?"

He groaned as her lips enveloped his engorged penis; her tongue worked on him
like liquid fire. "Oh god," he groaned. "Oh, fuck. That's so good." But he
could not rid himself of the nagging thought. "Your father ... "

She slid her lips from his rampant erection. "I love him and I need him," she
explained as she stood, then fell back on to her bed. "But right now,
I want you."

Her legs, long and shapely, parted for him. Between them, a magnet for his
fevered gaze, her swollen labia parted in turn, showing the inner pinkness,
slick with her lubrication, her arousal, her primal lust. "Fuck me," she
ordered him, her voice rough with desire. "Fuck me now."

He needed no further encouragement; as he bent down over her, she took hold of
his swollen member and guided it into place. Her arousal-slick labia parted at
the first thrust of his hips, allowing him to drive his throbbing cock into her
tight, hot vaginal canal.

They both cried out as he penetrated her, forcing his rigid erection deep into
her slippery wetness. Her legs went around his waist, and her nails dug into
his back through his still-sweaty shirt. She inhaled the pungent masculine
scent, the odour driving her even more wild with lust, with desire.

He grunted as he pulled out, then thrust harder, burying his driving cock to
the very hilt within her secret depths. Under him, she whimpered, clutching him
to her, kissing him with a kind of frantic desperation. His heavy scrotum
slapped against her upturned ass as he fucked her, driving himself between her
reddened labia over and over again, filling her to the brim each time, forcing
throaty gasps of pure animal lust from her throat.

                                     <><>

She came within a dozen strokes of his entering her; her eyes rolled back in
her head, she opened her mouth in a silent scream, and every muscle in her body
locked up at once. He kept thrusting, pounding his cock into her; there wasn't
anything else he could do.

Her hand was between them now, rubbing frantically at her clit. She bucked
under him, cumming again, more vocally this time; she muffled it by biting his
shoulder and letting that muffle her scream. Her pussy clenched around his
driving length, over and over.

Abruptly, he could take no more; thrusting his cock to the hilt within her, he
began to cum. She clung to him as his semen spurted deep inside her, filling
her delicate young womb with his seed. His hips kept pumping without his
conscious direction, continuing to fuck her with loud slaps of flesh on sweaty
flesh; he could feel his cock still pumping jet after jet of hot cum into her
belly.

Finally, he finished, subsiding on top of her with a groan of pure satiation.
She kissed him, and he rolled off of her, still holding her, still inside her.

But all good things have to come to an end. "Brian," she murmured.

"Mmm?" He didn't move.

"Brian, you need to have a shower."

"Oh. Uh, yeah." He began to get up, felt his still-shrinking penis slide out of
her.

"And would you like to go on a date?"

That got his attention. "A ... date?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, as he pulled his pants up. "A date. Gallant's asked me
if I want to come out on a double date. He'll be bringing his date, and I
thought I could bring you. If you're interested."

"Uh, I hate to sound like a broken record, but what about your father ... ?"

She rolled off the bed and began to put on her underwear. "Asked him. He said
he'd be busy, but that I could ask you, if I wanted." She grinned. "I think
he's meeting Hannah for sex."

He frowned. "Hannah ... ?"

"Oh, someone we both know," she replied briskly. "You'll probably meet her
sometime. She doesn't get out much, so sometimes Dad gets together with her and
screw each others' brains out. Dad and I both like her a lot."

"Oh, wait," he recalled. "Is this Miss Militia?"

"Right, yeah, I told you in the shower." She grimaced. "You never heard the
name, I never told you, all right?"

Seriously, he nodded. "Understood. You mentioned the possibility of a foursome
... ?"

"It depends on what she says. I'll get Dad to raise the idea with her." She
pulled her t-shirt over her head and kissed him.

Brian had met Miss Militia; for someone who had been doing the hero thing since
before he was born, she had some seriously sexy moves. The idea of Danny
fucking her in this very same bed, along with Taylor, was almost enough to
bring his wilted erection back from the dead.

But I have to take a shower, before anyone realises.

“Sure, I'd love to go on a date with you,” he blurted. He kissed her one more
time, then ducked out of the bedroom.

                                     <><>

She watched him go, then finished dressing. That was short, sharp and
satisfying. Not as satisfying as opening her legs for Danny was – nothing can
top you in bed, Dad – but definitely nice. Humming to herself, she strolled
downstairs.

Danny looked up as she entered. "Your breakfast is on the stove, Taylor," he
greeted her. She knew quite well that he knew what she had just done with
Brian, and was quietly amused by it.

"Thanks, Dad." She collected the bacon and eggs, and sat down next to him. The
juice pitcher materialised in his hand, and he poured her a glass. "Oh,
thanks."

"You're welcome." His grin widened, and the sense of amusement deepened.

She looked around, puzzled; Amy and Vicky were now sporting secret smiles of
their own, while Aisha was grinning like a loon. "What?"

Danny cleared his throat. "Our bedroom's right over the kitchen. And our
bedsprings can be very squeaky."

"What?" An instant later, she got what he meant, and coloured a deep crimson.
"Oh god, you all heard?"

Aisha quite literally fell off her chair, cackling loudly. Amy was trying not
to laugh, but wasn't being too successful at holding it in; she was getting
redder and redder in the face, and letting out a series of high-pitched
squeaks. Vicky just whooped with laughter.

“We couldn't not hear it,” Danny explained. “I was rather surprised that you
would be so obvious, but then, neither of us has been down here while we've
been using the bed, so we didn't know how noisy it was.”

Aisha climbed back on to her seat, and held out her hand to Vicky. “Pay up,”
she demanded.

Taylor, still red, looked from Aisha to Vicky. “What?”

“She bet Vicky that you'd get into Brian's pants before the month was over,”
Amy explained, still very red in the face. “I didn't bet. I didn't think it was
right.”

“That, and we wouldn't let you bet, in case you rigged the result,” jibed
Vicky. She pulled a note out of her wallet and slapped it into Aisha's palm.
Aisha folded it and tucked it into her top.

“I wouldn't do anything like that!” protested Amy.

“Not even if there was money involved?” asked Aisha.

Amy hesitated. “Uh -”

“Ah-ha!” Aisha crowed. “Yeah, no betting for Amy.”

Taylor looked at her curiously. “Uh … you're not pissed, or squicked, that I
just had sex with your brother?”

Aisha shrugged. “Eh. I don't need any details, but I'm a big girl. I can deal.”
She leaned closer and added in a stage whisper, “Besides, I'm getting it on
with Regent. What Brian doesn't know won't hurt him.”

“How long before you figure he'll know about it?” asked Danny mildly.

Aisha shrugged, supremely unconcerned. “None of his beeswax. He starts getting
upset with me, I'll throw this in his face.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You do know that I'm not overly concerned, right?”

Vicky raised her head. “I sort of got that impression, but I can't see why,
exactly. It doesn't bother you that Taylor's sleeping with someone else?”

“Having sex with,” he corrected her. “And not really; you see, I know how she
feels about me, and about them.” He put his arm around Taylor's shoulders; she
leaned close to him. “She loves me, and I love her. It's that simple. There's
no room for jealousy, because I don't have to worry that she's leaving me for
someone else.”

Taylor tilted her face up to his, and he kissed her; they held each other close
until the kiss ended. “And that's what it's all about,” she added, once she got
her breath back. Then she got up.

“Where are you going?” Danny asked. “You haven't finished your breakfast.”

“I'll finish it later,” she told him firmly. “After we're done, upstairs.”

“Ah,” he replied. “You girls can finish up here, yes?”

Without waiting for a reply, he grasped Taylor's hand, and they both vanished
in a puff of purple-brown smoke.

                                     <><>

The bedroom door locked behind them, Taylor stared into Danny's eyes.

“You called him in here, kissed him, then made him fuck you,” he breathed, his
eyes hot with desire.

She nodded. “I was naked, except for a robe.”

An instant later, her clothes disappeared from her; they reappeared in his
hands, then fell to the floor. A robe appeared in his hands, fell into her
arms. She slid her arms into it, stepped up to him, pressed him against the
wall, kissed him. Their lips parted, their tongues meshed. His hands slid into
the opening of the robe, caressed the planes of her body. She shivered as he
cupped her breasts.

Slowly she went to her knees, pulled his pants down, began to suckle on him. He
was hard already, his desire for her evident in every movement. She let his
length slither down her throat as she pleasured him with her mouth.

“Oh god, Taylor,” he groaned. “My sweet love.”

Her lips, her tongue, her teeth pleasured him, until his brain whited out from
the sensations; he felt his loins gathering. She knew what he felt, for she
felt it too; she caressed him, licked him, sucked him. Drew him deep into her
throat.

He grunted, arched his back, pressed himself into her mouth, as he came. His
hips jerked, thrusting, his length all the way into her mouth. She felt his hot
semen spurting down her throat into her stomach; swallowing motions helped milk
his shaft of all its secretions.

Once he pulled out of her throat, she drew a deep breath, then began to lick
his length clean. Then slowly, carefully, she began to undress him, admiring
every part of his body.

“We'll be late,” he murmured.

“Not if we teleport,” she breathed in reply.

“It's not a toy,” he reproved her, but there was a grin on his face.

Her hand curled around his member. “Nor is this.”

Stripped of her robe, she climbed on to the bed; he followed. They lay
together, kissed, caressed. She used her body wantonly, lewdly, rubbing herself
against him, in an effort to rouse his desire once more. It did not take much
in the way of effort; he was already feeling the immense desire that she held
within her, and this affected him scarcely less than it affected her.

“Why are you so turned on?” he asked as her hand stroked him to hardness.

“All the way on the run, I was watching Brian's ass,” she told him frankly.
“And when I got in, all I could smell was his sweat. So I was turned on. And
getting his cock inside me again was insane. But it was over too quickly. I
didn't come nearly enough times. Not the way you can make me come.”

He kissed her gently, tenderly. “I'll just have to make up the shortfall then,
won't I?” he breathed in her ear. His hands on her body were relentless as they
were knowledgeable; he knew damn well that Brian wouldn't be able to do half
the things to her that they did together now. “I have to say, ever since your
breasts finished growing in, I do like them better than the original issue.”

“More to suck on, huh?” she asked, groaning deep in her throat as he did just
that. Her back arched as his hand found her delicate sex, and busy fingers
began to ply their trade; she began to pant, then let out a soft cry as he
tweaked her clitoris.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, sliding two fingers inside her hot
slippery wetness.

“D-d-doggy,” she grunted. “All fours. “T-t-take me haaaaaaaaaarrrr-.”

She broke off, crying out again as his thumb on her clit elicited an orgasm;
her body jolted as if beset by electric shocks, as he played her erogenous
zones like a maestro. Every flare of pleasure in her body was pleasure for him
as well; he could feel the effect of his touch upon her, raising her to heights
of pleasure that only a couple such as he and Taylor could reach.

And then he was easing her off the bed, on to the thick, soft mat that he had
bought for just this purpose; sex on the floor was fun, until carpet-burn set
in. There would be no carpet-burn from thisluxurious, fluffy pile.

On all fours, head hanging down, panting from the arousal, she felt him kneel
behind her, hands on her hips. He spread her thighs – no, her buttocks. He was
spreading her buttocks. Already, his urgently erect penis was prodding at the
entrance to her tightest hole. Her arousal increased, and she pushed back at
him, relaxing her sphincter so that he could penetrate her.

They groaned in unison as the head popped inside her, spreading the tight
puckered hole, pushing her buttocks apart.

“Taylor … “

“Dad … “

“Taylor … “

“Dad ….”

With each push of his hips, he slid a little farther inside her, sheathing his
fleshy weapon between her perfect buttocks. She groaned, arching her back, as
the pleasure washed through her; he thrust a little harder as he got the
feedback. She could feel his pleasure, and he could feel hers. And when his
pleasure was mixed with hers, each of them felt it more and more.

By the time he had her fully penetrated, he was thrusting hard into her,
grasping her hips tightly and fucking her tight rear end with glorious abandon.
She was bracing herself and pushing back against his thrusts, grunting with the
force that his thighs were impacting hers.

Most of the time they made love; soft and gentle and sweet. Long, languorous
hours between the sheets, giving and receiving pleasure over and over again.
Sometimes they just had quickies, when the moment took them. Like her episode
with Brian, these were short and sharp and devastating, and hugely satisfying
for each of them. But sometimes, they just fucked. Hard, almost rough on
occasion, vaginal or anal; pounding, sweaty, inhibition-free rutting. Amy had
re-engineered her pussy and ass so that it could take just this sort of
treatment, and they made full use of it. Nor did Taylor have to worry about
birth control; Amy had taken care of that little matter as well.

Taylor felt her next orgasm boiling up in her; Danny felt it simultaneously
with her, and he quickened his tempo. She arched her back, clenching around him
as the climax blasted through her, then another as his hand between her legs
rubbed hard on her clit. His cock drove between her well-used buttocks, deep
inside the hot liquid depths of her rectum; the friction was amazing. She knew
that her ass would be on fire for some little time to come, but it was so very
much worth it as a price for this kind of go-to-hell fucking.

He let go her clit; she put one hand back to take over rubbing herself, her
breasts bobbing beneath her as he fucked her hard and fast. His hands grasped
her hips, pulling her buttocks back on to his thrusting erection over and over
again. The squishy thuds of his groin meeting her pelvis, his cock driving home
into her tight hot asshole, filled the room, competing with his harsh breathing
and her whimpering moans.

The pleasure of fucking like this was undeniable; their desire, their arousal,
mounted with each hammering stroke. She tightened her anal sphincter around his
long driving erection, heightening the sensations for both of them, making him
feel as though his manhood were being squeezed in an exquisitely pleasurable
vice.

And then he felt his own orgasm coming on. She knew it as well; as he continued
to thrust into her, she pushed back at him harder than ever. Their bodies came
together with almost punishing force, over and over. He arched his back and
groaned as his climax began.

She felt him drive his cock deep inside her abused rectum; accepted it,
welcomed it, accommodated it. Felt his orgasm begin. Came herself, in sympathy,
as the first jets of his hot cum spurted deep within her bowels. Took his
pleasure for her own, came again and again, as he felt her pleasure driving his
own orgasm to new heights. She panted in ragged gasps as the feedback from his
initial climax and hers bounced back and forth between them, building on
itself, even as he continued to grasp her hips, continued to cum inside her,
continued to thrust his rampant erection into her secret depths.

When the storm subsided, they were lying side by side on the thick rug, in
spoon fashion; his groin was still snuggled up to her buttocks, and his penis
still inside her bottom. His arms were wrapped around her, one hand cupping a
breast from sheer familiarity, not from any attempt to arouse.

“Wow, god,” she groaned. “That was … fuck me, that was beyond awesome.”

He shifted; she felt his softening member begin to slide from her well-fucked
asshole. “I need to thank Amy, again,” he murmured, his hands beginning to
caress her body. “I think that was even better than the last time we did it
that way.”

She rolled over in his arms and kissed him; he responded with commendable
enthusiasm. “Amy and Vicky offered me a threesome, sometime,” she murmured.
“Sort of as a thank you for helping get them together. I'm deciding whether or
not to take them up on it.”

He kissed her again. “Well, don't say no on my account,” he advised her. “I'm
still enough of a typical guy to think lesbians are hot. Especially after
watching you and Hannah screw each others' brains out in fine style.”

“Yeah, but that's the trouble,” she sighed. “I like Hannah, a lot. But I don't
think I'm attracted to other girls. It might even be that I'm attracted to her
because you're attracted to her.”

“That could be the case,” he admitted. “Although I can't say that I'm attracted
to either Chris or Brian, so it might just be that you're attracted to her for
yourself.”

'Actually, talking about that,” she ventured. “I told Brian about you and me
and Hannah. And I told him that there might just be the possibility of you and
me and him as a threesome, or maybe all four of us. I didn't promise anything,
just … suggested it. Said I'd talk to you. So … ?”

He tilted his head. “Sharing you with another guy might be weird. But all four
of us … hmm. I might talk to Hannah. See if she's interested in getting closer
to Brian. But if she says no, it's no.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “I told him it was up to you.” She snuggled closer to him.
“Thanks.”

“Hey, it's all right,” he assured her. “How's your ass feeling?”

“Like it just got fucked by a steam train,” she murmured. “A really good steam
train. But I think we might leave the rough anal stuff for a while. It's gonna
be sore for a little bit.”

His kiss was gentle, soft and warm on her lips. “Whatever you want, Taylor.
Whenever you want it.”

She giggled. “Well, I probably want to finish breakfast and get ready for
school; otherwise I'll be late, teleportation or not.”

He grinned and sat up, cupping her breast as she sat up with him. “Tell 'em you
had to save the world. Again.”

A snort of a chuckle as she found her underwear and began to put it on. “That's
the excuse I used last week.”

They dressed once more, hindered just a little by the kisses and caresses that
they exchanged. Danny noted that Taylor was walking just a little stiffly, but
he wisely did not comment. And she knew that he knew, and wasn't commenting, so
she stuck her tongue out at him.

When they teleported downstairs once more, Vicky was leaning against the far
end of the kitchen table with a strangely abstracted look on her face. Taylor
queried Amy's location, and got an image of her kneeling on the kitchen floor,
sucking blissfully on her sister's penis. A mental nudge to Danny, and they
were back in the bedroom once more; Vicky hadn't even noticed them.

“I think I'll eat breakfast up here,” she announced.

Danny, who knew through her where Amy was in relation to Vicky, nodded.
“Probably for the best.” In a moment, Taylor had her plate and cutlery, and was
eating breakfast while seated on the edge of the bed; Danny left the room to go
to the bathroom.

“No wonder they don't mind staying back to do the dishes,” Danny observed upon
his return.

“And now you know,” Taylor agreed. “Though I'm personally thinking that they
might have been turned on by me and you and Brian getting it on.” She paused.
“If you want, I can ask if they would like you to join in with that offer they
made me, make it a foursome. Amy's gay, but I'm pretty sure that Vicky likes
boys too.”

“If you want,” he advised her, sitting down beside her and putting his arms
around her. “Only if you want. I mean, yes, Vicky's a very nice girl, but
you're the one I'm in love with.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, putting the empty plate aside and snuggling into him.
“I appreciate that so much.”

“Okay,” he decided briskly. “We're either going, or we're staying in bed all
day.”

“Tough one,” she decided, then heaved a sigh. “I guess we're going.”

“We're going, then,” he agreed, letting her go. “Should we say goodbye?”

She checked on Amy and Vicky, and discovered that Vicky had Amy braced up
against the sink while the blonde hero took her sister vigorously from behind.
“Hmm … probably not.” She lingered on the visualisation though; it was kind of
hot.

“Right then,” he told her, as he shared in what she had discovered. He found it
hot, too. “Let's go.”

Standing up, they clasped hands, and went.

                                     <><>

School was a lot easier, Taylor decided, since she had gotten powers. Not as a
direct result, of course; while there were probably ways that she could use her
location powers to increase her academic standard, they were most likely
illegal. Cheating, in other words.

The way that things had become easier was a lot simpler than that. Getting
powers had allowed her and Danny to join the Protectorate, and to get the goods
on Sophia and her friends. Discovering that Shadow Stalker was one of her
bullies had been a shock, but not as much of a shock as it obviously had been
to the Director. Sophia's attempt to flee upon discovery had been a godsend;
that made for assumption of guilt, and subsequent searching of her locker and
her bedroom at home had unearthed a stash of her forbidden sharp arrows. Shadow
Stalker had gone down, hard.

Also, not only were Emma and Madison undergoing investigation for the bullying
activities – in an attempt to lighten the sentence upon herself, Sophia had
spilled the beans on them – but they were also being charged for the attempt to
steal Taylor's purse from the restaurant. Danny had informed her with quiet
glee that Alan Barnes had been warned off the case by Carol Dallon; if he
stepped in, then so would she.

All in all, the prior bullying stance against her had utterly collapsed; people
who used to shove her or call names behind her back now almost tiptoed around
her. It helped that she had had what they thought to be a growth spurt, adding
a couple of inches to her height, and several to her bust, turning her from
gawky to graceful. While she was by no means a beautiful swan as yet, she was
certainly no longer an ugly duckling. Thank you, Amy.

Unfortunately, this did draw a different type of attention, for which she
really wasn't prepared. Specifically, boys who were interested in her, and
girls who wanted to be her friend. Which begged the question; who among these
kids were those who had always wanted to be her friend and had been scared to
do so, and who were seeking to curry favour with the new apparent power in her
year? She was still coming to terms with her new body image; still unsure about
how she felt regarding how others saw it.

                                     <><>

She had barely been sitting down for thirty seconds in the cafeteria when a
couple of boys, ones she barely knew, approached the table. “Uh, can we sit
here?” asked one.

She already knew that several other tables were still unoccupied; she gave them
a cool glance. “Why?”

“Uh, so we can eat our lunch?”

Yeah, right. “Sure, sit down. Be my guest.”

They sat, and applied themselves to their lunches. Silently, also eating her
lunch, she counted seconds in her head by visualising the cafeteria clock. She
had barely got to 'forty' when one of the boys cleared his throat. “”Uh, you're
Taylor Hebert, right?”

Why, fancy that. “That's me, yes.” Her tone was carefully neutral. She didn't
recall this boy being one of the ones who had followed Emma's lead in taunting
her, but that meant nothing.

“I was wondering, there's this party on Saturday night, and maybe you'd like -”

She smiled briefly. “Sorry, but I've got a date already. You know how it goes.”

“Oh, so I might see you there -”

She spoke over him. “No. I don't go to parties. Not since the last one I went
to, where every single person turned away and refused to speak to me.” She
looked into his eyes. “Have you ever been alone in a crowd? I've been there.
It's not fun.”

“Oh, but that won't happen -”

“This time?” She heard the edge in her voice, and wanted to rein herself in,
then decided, Fuck it.. “Because I'm not the pariah any more? Not the outcast?”
Her voice lowered, so that he had to lean forward. “Understand this; the fact
that you, all of you, decided to change your treatment of me just because of
something that happened, says far more bad things about you than it does good
things about me. Now, I don't care about your parties. I don't care about your
social scene. I don't care about you. And if you can't eat your lunch quietly,
go and find another table. I'm done talking.”

She went back to eating her pita wrap. The boy she had spoken to got up,
looking hurt, and moved to another table. His friend didn't go; he stayed,
eating quietly. When he finished, he got up, paused, and spoke one word before
leaving.

“Sorry.”

Taylor didn't reply, didn't respond in any way. She pulled out a book from her
bag, opened it, and kept eating. Knowing now that they would be talking about
her, but not knowing what they would be saying. Telling herself that she didn't
care.

She had finished on the wrap and was starting on the banana when someone sat
down opposite her. She raised her eyes from the book with words already forming
on her lips.

“I told you I -”

She looked into the face of Madison Clements.

                                     <><>

For a long moment, she stared. She was tempted to get up, to just walk away.
But then she reminded herself, I don't run away from people like this. Not any
more.

“I thought the cops were talking to you.”

Madison, for the first time she had ever seen her, looked worn down, a little
ragged. She had done her best to maintain the 'cute' look, but the strain was
showing. “They are. But I've also got the right to attend school.”

“With me.” Taylor's voice was flat. “Wouldn't they have a restraining order or
something on you?”

“Get real.” Madison snorted. “I never used violence. I'm not a threat to you.
Mr Barnes pulled Emma out just ahead of a suspension, and Sophia's just … gone.
I'm not quite in enough trouble to suspend or expel me, but I'm not quite in
the clear. Turns out I've got a metric ton of 'accessory' charges hanging over
my head.”

A light clicked on over Taylor's head. “You rolled over on them.”

The slightest of shrugs. “Emma would've done it to me, if she'd thought of it
first. Soon as I saw how serious it was, I batted my eyes and started singing
like a canary.” She gestured at the cafeteria. “And here I am.”

“So why are you here, talking to me?” demanded Taylor. “To ask me to plead your
case? If you're hoping for that, then you've got a long wait coming. Everything
that's coming to you, you deserve.”

Madison snorted again. “Doubt you could do a thing now, anyway. Sophia's
obviously talking too, wherever she is. There's enough evidence to nail all
three of us to the wall. So you can, you know, gloat a bit if you want.”

Taylor twisted the cap off of her fruit juice and took a drink. Swallowed and
put the bottle down. “I don't want to gloat." That wasn't strictly true; there
was just a little tiny bit of gloating going on, inside her. How the mighty
have fallen. "What I want is to know why you're here, at this table, talking to
me. Because I can't think of a valid reason.” She shot Madison a suspicious
look. “Unless you're looking to pull one last prank on me, in which case
I will kick your ass across this cafeteria and back. And not a person here will
lift a hand to stop me."

She knew that Danny would be feeling the sudden tension, would know that she
was concerned. If anything threatened, he should be able to pull her out before
anything major happened.

“No, no, no pranks.” Madison leaned forward across the table. “I just wanted to
tell you that you're doing it all wrong.”

                                     <><>

Taylor blinked, long and slow. “You fucking what?”

“You're doing it wrong,” insisted Madison. “You want to just be left alone,
ignored, but not pushed around or bullied, right?”

“I … yes?”

“Well, then.” Madison dusted her hands off. “You're doing it wrong. Snapping at
people who want to sit next to you? Giving them no kind of leeway? That's
setting the wrong tone.”

“I'm not asking them to sit next to me,” Taylor replied defensively.

"Not verbally, no," agreed Madison. "Look, you're not great at this whole
teenage social scene thing, are you?"

Taylor took another drink of the orange juice, and considered dumping the rest
over Madison's head. As tempting as it was, it probably wouldn't help her cause
any. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she retorted.

"Oh, just a few hints, here and there." Madison raised her chin. "Whereas,
I'm good at this shit."

"So you're here to watch me squirm, to gloat, is that it?"

"Hardly." Madison's tone was dismissive. "This is how it's going to happen. I'm
going to tell you where you're going wrong. Then you'll reject what I'm saying,
tell me to stay the fuck out of your life, and spend the next week avoiding me.
I'll watch you flail around for about a week, doing exactly the wrong things
and totally failing to get what you want, and maybe then I'll gloat a little.
After that, you'll come back to me and ask me how you should do it. I'll give
you pointers, you'll end up where you need to be – that is, the top of the
heap, where people will respect you enough to leave you alone when you ask them
to – and I'll be right there beside you, back on top where I belong.”

Taylor glared at her. “Got it all figured out, have you?”

“Pretty well.” Madison tilted her head in self-acknowledgement. “I know this
stuff like the back of my hand, after all.”

“So, did you show Emma how to do it?”

“Nah.” Madison shook her head. “She can do that sort of stuff like a duck can
swim. I gave Sophia the occasional pointer, sure – she was more about the
physical stuff than the mental – but once she got her head around it, she could
deal.”

“So why even talk to me, then? Why not rise to the top by yourself?”

Madison smiled at Taylor; a sweet, unaffected smile. It looked so genuine that
Taylor was almost taken in. “Because I'm cute, but that's not quite enough to
be queen bee all by myself. I need a figurehead, someone for people to focus
on, and that's you. You don't want to be the centre of attention, and that's
fine. I'll deflect most of it away from you. You just have to look like you're
in charge.”

“And what if I don't want that?” Taylor tried to make her tone challenging.

“Then you ignore what I've got to say.” Madison shrugged lightly. “You keep
putting people off, they'll start calling you a snooty bitch, and you'll be
alone in a school that either doesn't know about you or doesn't like you. That
is, right where you started.”

Taylor tried to muster an answer that didn't sound exactly like 'go fuck
yourself'', and couldn't. She took a deep breath, and at that moment, her phone
went off. Her Wards phone. At almost exactly the same time, Danny's emotions
spiked a little; she figured that he had gotten a call too.

Pulling the phone out, she pressed the answer icon. “Yeah?” she replied.

“Are you alone?” It was Aegis.

“Oh, hi, Dad. What's up?”

“Got it. Get somewhere out of the way so he can pick you up. Something's going
down; we're needed for a briefing.”

“Oh, you have no idea how glad I am to hear that.” As she spoke, Taylor rose
from her seat and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Problem?”

“No, something pretty insignificant, all things told.” She looked directly into
Madison's eyes as she said that. “See you after school.”

“See you soon.”

Hanging up the phone, she glanced at Madison. “Sorry, gotta run. Just
remembered some homework I've got to do before my next class.”

Madison raised her eyebrows. “You can't run away from this.”

Taylor shook her head. “I don't give a fuck about this.”

Turning, she strode toward the cafeteria exit, vaguely aware of Madison rising
to follow her. The doors opened, and she turned right as they closed. No-one
was in view. Okay, Dad. Now.

A burst of purple-brown smoke, and her father stood before her. She walked
straight into his arms; he folded them around her, and the smoke billowed
around them once more. In her mind's eye she could see Madison leaving the
cafeteria, looking left and right with a puzzled expression.

Not my problem right now.

Looking around, they were in the Wards area; Danny pulled her Compass Rose
costume from home and placed it in her arms. “See you at the meeting,” he told
her. A quick kiss, and he was gone.

As the cloud of smoke faded, she turned to see Aegis; he was mostly costumed
up, with just his mask hanging down at the back of his neck.

“What's up?” she asked, setting down the costume and helmet so that she could
bundle her hair up at the back of her head.

“Apparently the Empire Eighty-Eight's making a move,” he reported tersely.
“More information at the briefing session. Good to see you, Taylor.”

“And you too, Carlos,” she replied, removing her fake glasses before pulling
her helmet over her head. It felt like coming home. “Let me costume up, and
we'll go see what's going on.”
***** New Problems *****
Chapter Summary
     When Taylor and Danny fall afoul of the Empire Eighty-Eight,
     stringent measures must be taken ...
     Also, angry sex.
The dot of the laser pointer moved over the large wall-map of Brockton Bay.
Taylor, along with her father and the other members of the Brockton Bay
Protectorate and Wards, listened to the PRT major as he explained the
situation.
“- moving into the Docklands now that the ABB has begun to fragment, and also
setting up to consolidate their hold on Coil's old territory. Our informants
say that -”
“Wait.” Taylor put her hand up.
The major turned to face her. “Yes, Compass Rose?”
“So you're saying that we caused this? We're responsible for the Empire's turf
grab now? Because we took out Coil and Lung and Oni Lee?”
There was a minor stir at this. The team-within-a-team composed of Compass Rose
and Pathfinder had 'taken out' Lung by dropping a derelict cargo ship on him.
Before that, Coil had been taken down with relatively equal ease, although not
quite as dramatically. Their crowning achievement to date had been, with the
help of Miss Militia, teleporting Leviathan to the Moon. The fact that the
Endbringer had since disappeared from the surface of the satellite meant little
in the face of the sheer magnitude of the feat.
The major cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I wasn't pointing fingers. This
sort of thing happens. The balance gets upset, a new balance gets arrived at.”
Danny sat up a little straighter. “But what you're saying is that the 'new
balance' is that the Empire Eighty-Eight, a known white-supremacist gang, will
be spreading into more neighbourhoods where they can cause problems for anyone
they disapprove of. And they'll have parahuman backing while they do so. And
that we're somewhat responsible for them being able to do so.”
The major looked a little hunted. “Uh … yes?”
“Well, fine.” Taylor's father reached into a belt pouch and pulled out a small
notepad. “Let's do something about this, then.”
The major frowned. “What are you talking about? Unilateral action has to be
approved by the Director -”
“So go ask her.” Danny finished scribbling the note, tore it from the pad and
folded it twice. Without needing to be asked, Taylor put her hand in his.
Where's Kaiser? she asked herself. Immediately, a picture sprang into her mind
of the crime lord himself, speaking to a large group of people. She couldn't
see them clearly – the only sharp image in her mind's eye was Kaiser himself –
but she imagined that they were Empire Eighty-Eight rank and file. Her power
also filled her in on his precise direction and bearing, to the inch.
This information went to Danny just as fast as she could think about it; he
nodded and the note vanished in a puff of purple-brown smoke.
“What was that?” demanded the major. “Where did you send it? What did it say?”
Danny raised his head to look at the man. “Just fixing my messes.”
                                     <><>
“- Lung gone, the Asians are on the run,” Kaiser declaimed, his well-modulated
speaking voice filling the meeting hall. “Only the Merchants oppose us now,
degenerates and lowlives that they are. They cannot stand up to us once we
decide to push them from the city once and for all, and make no mistake, we
will -”
With a tiny puff of purple-brown smoke, a square of folded paper appeared on
the podium before him. With a frown, he picked it up and opened it.
STAND DOWN OR BE STOOD DOWN. YOUR CHOICE.
There was no signature, but he didn't need one; the puff of smoke had told him
all that he needed to know. He paused for a long moment, rapidly working
through the ramifications of the situation.
If Pathfinder and Compass Rose are paying attention to what I'm doing, then
there's no way to do it without them knowing. And that's a fight I'd rather not
walk into blindly.
The crowd of Empire rank and file were starting to fidget slightly; he didn't
have to look around to know that to either side of him, the capes that made up
the core of his organisation were looking at him curiously.
He cleared his throat. “I've just received some important information. We're
going to be putting the expansion on hold for the moment, until we've sorted
out a minor problem.”
The reaction from the crowd was just as startled as those from the capes,
although the latter hid it better. A few voices were raised, but he held up his
hand and they quieted again. “That's all for the moment. We'll call on you when
we need you.”
It was a clear dismissal; in ones and twos, and then more and more, they began
to leave the hall. Kaiser watched them go; as the last ones left, Kreig came to
stand at his side.
“That was … unexpected,” the older man commented dryly. “What happened?”
Silently, Kaiser handed him the note. Kreig read it, his brow furrowing, then
looked up at Kaiser. “Where did you get this from?”
“It was teleported right in front of me while I was speaking,” Kaiser said.
“Brown and purple smoke. You know what that means.”
“Pathfinder,” Kreig agreed. “Shit.”
“It's abundantly clear that they can locate anyone or anything they want,”
Kaiser pointed out. “And that they can teleport people along with them. I, for
one, do not want to wake up from a sound sleep in a jail cell.”
“That might be a little blatant for the PRT,” Kreig mused. “Stomping all over
us like that comes perilously close to breaking the unwritten rules.”
“Which anyone with enough power does anyway,” Kaiser snapped. “That's why
they're unwritten. People only stick to them when it looks like the
consequences for breaking them aren't worth the benefits.”
The other capes had approached; Menja stepped forward. “What happened? Why did
you stop?”
Behind his metal faceplate, Kaiser grimaced. “I got a warning, from Pathfinder.
Stand down or be stood down. That's a direct quote, by the way.”
“What?” Fenja's voice was outraged. “He can't give you orders like that, can
he?”
Kaiser took a deep breath. “An order not backed by force is merely a
suggestion. This order is most definitely backed by force. If you doubt that, I
suggest you brush up on what happened to Lung, to Crawler, to the rest of the
Nine. To Leviathan.” He gave her a level stare. “In short? Yes, he can give me
orders like that.”
“So that's it?” Hookwolf stomped forward into the circle that was forming.
“You're just going to roll over and show your belly to the Protectorate? To the
superheroes? Because that's not the Kaiser I know.”
“Of course not,” Kaiser said impatiently. “But it's stupid to defy someone who
can trump your every move, who can find you wherever you go. So we hold off on
all provocative action until we can do what any reasonable man does when faced
with such an insurmountable obstacle.”
Kreig smiled slowly. “Remove it.”
Kaiser nodded in reply. “By any means necessary.”
                                     <><>
“Seriously. Pathfinder. No.” Emily Piggot resisted the impulse to try to tear
her own hair out. It wasn't hard; the impulse to try to throttle the cape in
front of her was somewhat stronger, and she was managing to hold that one in
check. So far. “What were you thinking?”
“That unless I did something, and fast, the Empire Eighty-Eight would have
caused a lot of trouble, maybe even killed people. So I nipped it in the bud.”
Pathfinder's voice was calm and reasonable, almost as if what he was saying
made sense. Which it did, to a certain point. That point being where he
threatened the head of a major parahuman gang. Piggot wanted to swear. He still
doesn't know what he's done.
“Are you aware that you may have caused a whole new series of problems for us?”
She was quite proud of the way she didn't scream the words at him.
The helmet hid most of his face, but his puzzled tone came through quite
clearly. “Ma'am, I thought I solved the problem.”
Stress: the feeling you get when you have to refrain from throttling some idiot
who desperately deserves it.Piggot knew exactly how that felt. “Pathfinder. You
may have stopped the Empire Eighty-Eight from acting now, but Kaiser is a proud
man and a powerful one. He is also known to be vindictive from time to time. He
will almost certainly not forget this. Nor will he wait tamely for the next
time you are 'forced' to deliver another threatening note. If I know the man –
and I've been studying his dossier on a monthly basis since I started as
Director – he will be making plans and taking steps of his own. Plans and steps
which will not go well for you or your daughter.”
“Wait, you mean he'd come after us?” That was Compass Rose; she had to admit,
the girl was quick on the uptake. “Don't the unwritten rules -” Well, mostly
quick on the uptake.
Emily made a slashing motion with her hand. “Stop right there. Whatever the
Wards have been telling you, the 'unwritten rules' are more unwritten than
rules. They're a loose set of agreements that are only honoured when it's
obvious that to break them will cause trouble for the person doing the
breaking. In any case, they don't apply here, unless he attacks you at home.”
“So this is something we need to be worried about.” Finally, Pathfinder was
getting it.
“Yes. This is something we need to be worried about.” Emily hardly had to use
any sarcasm; she could see that he got it.
“So what do we do?” Compass Rose sounded concerned. Good. She's seeing sense.
“Maybe we should hit the Empire first? Like we did with the Nine?” Whoops,
spoke too soon.
Director Piggot sighed, and tried hard not to roll her eyes. It wasn't easy.
“Okay. To start with, we can't use the same level of force on the Empire that
we could on the Nine. They all had kill orders. Kaiser's gang doesn't. Second,
if we started targeting them pre-emptively, word would almost certainly get out
in the villain community. This would almost certainly be seen as a breakage of
the unwritten rules – that is, targeting a gang to take them totally out of the
picture – and might just trigger retaliation from all the other gangs. How do
you feel about all-out war in this city?”
“Okay.” That was Pathfinder. “What do we do?”
“Nothing.” Emily's voice was definite. “You do absolutely nothing. Take a leave
of absence from the team. Go home. Be normal people for a while. Don't do any
teleporting in public.”
Pathfinder seemed to consider that. “What do you think Kaiser is likely to do?”
“I'm going to be frank here. You can not act on what I'm going to say, given
that it's my personal opinion.” Piggot waited until both of them nodded. “He'd
probably target you, Pathfinder, given that you're the Mover. Afterward,
Compass Rose may be targeted or left alone. But he won't do it as a frontal
assault, he won't do it blatantly and whatever attempt is made won't have any
sort of direct connection with the Empire Eighty-Eight. Because he's a proud
man but not a stupid one.”
“So we just wait till the attempt is made?” Compass Rose's voice was bitter.
“No.” Emily shook her head. “In a few days, I'll start trying to get a message
to him. Pass on word that you exceeded your authority in doing that, and that
you've been disciplined. That it won't happen again.”
“What?” Pathfinder's voice was incredulous. “You're going to apologise to him?”
“To head off cape war in my city, or the murder of two of my capes – yes. Most
definitely.” Emily's tone was flat. “I won't enjoy it, and he'll almost
certainly milk it for all it's worth, but it's the best outcome I can think of.
Unless he does something stupid and gets himself captured. But I can't see that
happening.”
“We could capture him.” Pathfinder's voice was hopeful. “If he's not there to
give the order -”
“- then someone else will. The Empire Eighty-Eight is filled with parahumans
who are violent, powerful, unstable or all three. These are people one treats
with kid gloves, unless we've got a really good reason to go all-out on them.”
“Or unless we can capture them all so that word never gets out that it was us.”
Compass Rose sounded hopeful.
Emily grimaced. “That sounds great, right up until we try to figure out how to
do it. No. You have your orders. Go home.”
Pathfinder rose and took his daughter's hand. “Ma'am.”
Emily nodded, but purple-brown smoke billowed before she had halfway completed
the motion. When it cleared, her visitors were gone. Closing her eyes, she
rubbed them with forefinger and thumb. One more crisis. Always one more crisis.
                                     <><>
The moment Danny and Taylor appeared in the living room, Danny released her
hand. Wrenching his helmet from his head, he threw it at the wall. It bounced
back and landed on the floor, rolling to a stop not far from his feet. Taking
two steps, he kicked it as hard as he could; it bounced off of the wall again,
then ricocheted into the kitchen.
“Wow, Dad.”
Those two words pulled him almost all the way out of his rage. He turned to see
Taylor, who had removed her own helmet but was turning it over and over in her
hands. “What?”
She shook her head. “I … guess I'm not the only one who thinks we just got
railroaded, huh?”
“Railroaded?” He almost growled the word. “We just got sidelined.Just because
we utilised a non-standard approach. And now she's gonna be apologisingto that
scumbag Kaiser for giving him fair warning.” He looked at her appealingly. “Do
you think I was wrong to do what I did?”
Standing on tiptoe, she gave him a slow, lingering kiss. “Let me show you how
wrong I think you were,” she murmured. Her hands trailed down his body,
unsnapping catches on the way. She slid to her knees before him, nimble fingers
opening his pants as she did so.
He gasped as she extracted his rapidly-hardening manhood, then groaned as her
mouth enfolded him. Expertly, she began to suckle on his burgeoning length,
drawing him deeper and deeper into her throat. He clutched at her head as she
moved her lips up and down his long shaft, deep-throating him in a way that
sent explosions of lust throughout his body.
With a thought, he teleported them to the bedroom; with another, they were both
naked, save for her only item of underwear. Slowly, she withdrew her mouth from
him, letting his very tip slip from between her lips with a teasing little nip.
She stood then, undulating in a way calculated to set his blood on fire, and
turned so that he got the very best look. The panties she wore were minuscule;
they barely covered even the parts they were supposed to cover, a mere wisp of
pretended modesty.
“Do you like?” she breathed.
“I like,” he panted. “I so like.”
Giving him a playful grin, she turned and sauntered from the room. “Come and
show me how much you like.”
Drawn irresistibly by the enticing rear view, he followed her to what had
previously been her bedroom, to find her bending over the bed, looking over her
shoulder at him. Her barely-clad buttocks, with the swollen arousal-slick labia
within clearly visible through the thin cloth, were out-thrust toward him.
“Please.” Her voice was a husky whisper. “Don't be gentle.”
Hooking two fingers in the delicate cloth, he yanked suddenly, ripping the
garment from her. She cried out, then again as he pressed his urgent erection
between her soft, delicate pussy lips. Grasping her hips, he thrust into her
deeply, enveloping his shaft in her warm wet tightness.
She grunted as he fucked her, bracing herself as his belly slapped against her
taut young buttocks, as their incestuous coupling sent sparks of arousal and
desire through every nerve ending. Brian had been good, better than good, but
there was no way his cock, no matter how thick and long, could compete with
Danny's.
He pulled out of her and rolled her over on the bed. She opened her thighs to
welcome him, reaching down to guide him home once more. They both gasped as his
length slid into her without pause, her ankles locking around his back as he
began to fuck her in earnest.
He kissed her each time he penetrated her fully; she gasped, arching her back
and clenching around his invading member. Her nails raked his back and she
pulled him down on to her, her breasts pressing against his chest.
As aroused as he was, he didn't take long to finish. But even as quickly as
that, she came first, almost levitating off of the bed with a scream that he
muffled with his own mouth. His driving hips pummelled her delicate tight young
pussy with his cock over and over again, pushing her into one orgasm after
another. And then he came, hunching his back and ramming himself into her,
spurting his hot seed deep inside her womb.
Still entwined, his cock still within her vagina, they rolled to the side and
lay there panting, letting the afterglow wash over them. Sweat sheened both
their bodies; she licked his shoulder, enjoying the salty taste.
“Mmm,” she giggled. “We need to have angry sex more often. That was epic.”
He kissed her. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“We both did,” she corrected him.  Her lips nuzzled his neck.  "Remember this
morning, when I fucked Brian?"
 He raised himself on one elbow. “I think there are people in Boston who know
what you and Brian did this morning.”
Leaning up, she kissed him. “Good. Well, I was wondering if you'd had a chance
to speak to Hannah about that foursome.”
“Sorry, not yet.” He grimaced slightly. “Things got a little hectic.  Were you
still interested in getting Amy and Vicky into bed?”
“Maybe sometime, sure.” She stretched against him. “But right now, I'm more
interested in getting screwed cross-eyed by two strong, virile men at once. Is
that too kinky?”
He ran his hand over her body, cupping a breast, then down over her hip. “Not
in the slightest.” In fact, thinking about it, he felt himself stir within her.
“I'd be glad to show him some pointers.”
“Oh, goodie.” She kissed him again, somewhat more sensuously. “So what are we
gonna do? About Piggot and Kaiser and that?”
He kissed her back, then slowly pulled out of her. “Well, first, I'm going to
take you into our bedroom, get out the lube, and give you the butt-fucking of a
lifetime.”
“Ooooh. I like, I like.”
“And then …” He showed his teeth in what could charitably be called a smile.
“We make a plan. We make our preparations. And then we act.”
                                     <><>
Three Days Later
“Why, Director, I'm surprised at you.” Kaiser was enjoying himself immensely.
“Members of the Protectorate and the Wards acting out of turn? And you're
admittingit? Tut tut, Director. For all you know, I could be recording this
conversation. Do you have any idea of the damage it could do your cause if this
happened to leak out to the media?”
He leaned back in the chair, stifling a groan. Not only was he shafting Piggot
in a metaphorical sense, but Rune, naked to the waist, was kneeling between his
legs. Teenager she may be, but she was well capable of sucking a man's penis,
which she was proving right now. Her mouth was hot and sensual on his
upstanding member and he knew he wasn't far from exploding.
“That doesn't matter.” If Piggot's teeth were not already grinding together
hard enough to pulverise diamond, Kaiser was prepared to eat his own metal
bodysuit. “I just need your agreement to not come after Pathfinder and Compass
Rose.”
“But it's not as simple as that, Director,” Kaiser purred. “They threatened me,
in front of my people. And not face to face either. A note, delivered by
untraceable means. That's more than a little insulting, you have to admit.”
It was amazing, he mused, how little effort it had taken to convince Rune to do
this with him. He had, of course, run the sexual gamut with both Fenja and
Menja, singly and as a threesome, and he wanted something new. A few hints
about 'giving for the cause' had gotten her to his office; subtle hints,
caresses and then a kiss had started the ball rolling.
Her breasts bobbed as she fellated him; he had been amazed anew at how pert and
taut they were under his hands. He couldn't wait for the next step, to coax her
panties off and take her the way a man should. He wondered if she was into
anal. She will be by the time I'm finished with her.
“They've been disciplined.” Each word was delivered as though they were teeth
being pulled. “It won't happen again. Of that I can assure you.”
“Oh, I'm not sure if I can trust your assurances,” he replied, caressing Rune's
head. “After all, they broke your rules once. How can I be certain they won't
go off the reservation again? No, I'm going to have to speak to them face to
face. Only then can I be sure that they won't act out of turn.”
“Out of the question.”
“Well, I'm sorry, but our negotiations are going to have to start from that
point.” He arched his back as the sensations built up within him. “If you're
going to stick on something so simple, I'm afraid we're going to be at an
impasse.” With a grunt, he came, feeling hot spurts of cum blast into Rune's
busily suckling mouth. He fought to contain his panting; there was no need for
Piggot to know what was happening.
“Kaiser -”
“Sorry, no. My patience is at an end. Call me again tomorrow and maybe we can
work something out.” He hung up on her, then relaxed to allow Rune to finish
swallowing his cum. That was fun. He would negotiate with Piggot, of course.
But the preparations for the assassination of Pathfinder would go ahead anyway.
The man was too dangerous to let live, no matter what 'agreement' he reached
with the Director of the PRT. Of course, he would claim innocence and pretend
to be shocked. Perhaps she would even believe him. She would certainly be
unable to prove otherwise.
Leaning back in the chair, he sighed as he relaxed. With the ABB reduced to
non-powered members, many of whom were slipping away even now, the only other
gang in the city were the Merchants. If one used the term loosely, that is. He
did not see them standing up long before the massed might of the Empire Eighty-
Eight.
Standing up from the chair, he drew Rune with him. Leaning down, he kissed her
gently. “That was wonderful,” he told her sincerely, caressing her breasts.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I just want to do right by the cause.”
He smiled. “Well, if you want to get freshened up and wash your face, I'll be
out here.” His hand slid down around her panty-clad bottom. “We can discuss
further options for giving to the cause.”
“All right.” Obediently, she trotted into the tiny bathroom. He felt himself
hardening as he watched her go.
Purple-brown smoke billowed from behind him; he reacted instantly, steel spikes
shooting up from the floor, impaling the figure within the cloud. It was
transfixed a dozen times over; he turned almost lazily, pulling his pants up.
“You honestly didn't think I didn't expect you to make a move on me, did you?”
More spikes formed a cage about the impaled figure, on the faint off-chance
that Pathfinder was still alive in there. The blood will be a problem to get
out of the carpet.
He was only just beginning to realise that there was no blood, because the
clearing smoke was revealing the figure to be a mannequin, when the stun-gun
prods dug into his back from behind. Current flowed; he convulsed as he fell to
the floor. Dimly, he saw the tall figure of Pathfinder standing over him.
“Yup.”
                                     <><>
Emily Piggot rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day, made longer by the
fruitless discussion with Kaiser. The man was playing with her, a situation
that made her want to shoot something, but she could not work out any other way
within the regulations to get what she needed.
“At least Pathfinder and Compass Rose are doing what they're told,” she
murmured. The thought of those two going off on their own was a terrifying one,
the scale of the terror depending on how independent they decided to be.
The fact that the Brockton Bay villains were held in check by a delicate
balancing act was something that she didn't expect many people to know; for the
last ten years, she had orchestrated that act for every day she had been
Director. Pathfinder's blatant action had threatened to overturn that balance
in one fell swoop. There was nothing, really, stopping the villains from
storming the PRT building and massacring everyone they found there. She just
had to make not doing it seem more attractive than doing it.
Director Piggot hated capes. She hated villainous capes even more than she
hated rogues, and she hated rogues more than she hated heroes. Some heroes were
almost likeable, but the fact remained that they were all parahumans, and
parahumans were ultimately impossible to police. They couldn't be disarmed and
it was her experience that they all had psychological problems.
But the day-to-day problems of managing the group of unstable children with
heavy weaponry paled before the issue that she was facing now; Kaiser had a
beef with Pathfinder and Compass Rose, the two parahumans who had put Leviathan
on the Moon. She didn't like them, but she had to respect them for that
astounding feat. And to lose them – and the potential life-saving uses of their
power – to a gang boss with a vendetta was something she was not prepared to
face lightly.
Purple-brown smoke billowed behind her office chair. She looked around,
startled, to see Pathfinder and Compass Rose standing there.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded. “You're off duty!”
“We put ourselves back on duty,” Pathfinder stated. “How are talks going with
Kaiser? Badly?”
“It's too early to say yet -” Piggot hedged.
“Badly,” he confirmed, nodding his head. “Well, it's your lucky day. We're here
to fix that particular problem. And some other potential ones.”
She stared at him. “What are you talking about? If you're asking for permission
to do something else foolhardy and ill-advised, I'm telling you now -”
Compass Rose cleared her throat. “Director, we're not asking. We're telling.
This is going to happen. And guess what; you get to watch.” As she spoke, she
shifted her weight; Piggot got the impression that she was being careful about
it, as if some part of her was very tender.
Pathfinder reached out and placed his hand on Emily's shoulder. She had time
for a startled “Don't you dare -” before purple-brown smoke filled her sight.
Slowly, it cleared. Not very much to her surprise, she was no longer in her
office. Her chair, however, still supported her weight.
“What the hell?” she muttered. “Where are we?”
Pathfinder reached out and slapped a rusty riveted metal bulkhead. The floor
and ceiling were made of the same material. It gave a hollow ringing sound.
“You'll see,” he told her.
Along three of the four walls were large cylinders, each marked COMPRESSED AIR.
DO NOT PUNCTURE. Set into the one empty wall was a submarine-type door with a
wheel in the middle. Turning toward it, he spun the wheel until it clunked to a
stop; with a heave, he opened the door. With a slight bow, he gestured for the
Director to precede him.
Many things could be said about Emily Piggot; being a coward was not one of
them. Ignoring the ache in her calves, she stepped over the threshold and
advanced into the room beyond. It was poorly lit, with large fluorescent lamps
powered by car batteries, but she could make out details quite well.
Four large chairs dominated the room, each with an occupant. More to the point,
the occupants were secured into the chairs with metal clamps; they also had
bags over their heads. Opposite the chairs was a large window composed of some
thick glass or perspex. Outside …
“Christ,” she muttered. “We're underwater.”
“What?” called out one of the seated men, his voice muffled by the bag. “Who's
that?”
That sparked a series of responses from the other men, until Pathfinder
shouted, “Shut up!” His voice rang through the metal enclosure; Piggot's ears
briefly hurt. The men shut up.
“To be precise, we are half a mile under the Atlantic Ocean,” Pathfinder
informed her. “If that window gave way, we would be smashed to a pulp before we
ever drowned. So if I have to leave anyone here, you can be sure that they
would be hard put to get out alive.”
As he spoke, he walked down the line of men, pulling bags off of heads. One he
left on; Piggot saw that there was a drawstring holding it in place. She
recognised those who were now free to look around; Uber and L33t, and Accord
from Boston.
“Who's that?” she asked, pointing at the last man; even as she voiced the
question, she had a feeling that she knew already. A clatter from behind her
alerted her to the fact that Compass Rose had lugged the office chair through
the door; with just a little relief, she sank into it.
“Kaiser,” Pathfinder told her, confirming her suspicion. “He gets to keep the
bag on, because he has a line-of-sight power. If he can't see us, he can't
attack us.”
“Is that you, Pathfinder?” called Kaiser from within the bag. “Isn't this just
a little puerile? And Director Piggot; I'm surprised you're condoning this.”
“She's not,” Pathfinder replied before Emily could think of an answer. “She's
just along for the ride. A witness, so to speak. I've just brought you all here
to say something. Then you can go home again, unscathed.”
“Then would you kindly get on with it?” Accord snapped. “I do not appreciate
having my time interrupted like this.”
“I'd apologise for the inconvenience,” Pathfinder addressed them all, “but
you're villains. You are, by definition, inconvenient to everyone around you.
So I'll make it short. All but one of you are Brockton Bay villains. You will
leave the city as soon as you can. Accord, you're based in Boston. Don't ever
come to Brockton Bay. I'm declaring this city off-limits to supervillains.” He
paused, looking them over. “Does anyone have any trouble understanding that?”
“You can't just unilaterally make us go away,” Kaiser snapped.
“I can and I will,” Pathfinder retorted. “This is your first, last and only
warning. If, after forty-eight hours, I find any one of you, or your minions,
within the borders of Brockton Bay, I will disappearyou. You saw what we did to
Leviathan. Do not imagine that I will hesitate to do something similar to any
one of you. Now, one last time; does anyone not understand this?”
“I understand completely,” Accord stated. “I had no intention of moving here in
any case. Now, return me from where you abducted me.”
“Certainly.” Pathfinder and Compass Rose approached the restrained villain.
Purple-brown smoke filled the area; moments later, they stepped out of the
cloud. Emily saw that the chair was now empty.
“Did you -” she began.
“He's back in Boston,” Pathfinder assured her. “Safe and sound.”
“Director Piggot!” It was Kaiser again. “I cannot believe that you are
condoning this travesty of human rights violations! We are being restrained
against our will, here! Without even the benefit of trial, or haebus corpus!”
“Don't push me,” warned Pathfinder.
“So what, you'll throw us into the Birdcage?” sneered Kaiser.
“No.” Pathfinder's voice was cold. “I won't.” There was a chilling silence
following that statement, then he went on. “All right then. Uber, L33t. Do you
understand the terms as I have given them?”
The Tinker, white-faced and shaking, nodded. His partner regarded Pathfinder
for a moment. His voice was deep and resonant as he replied. “I'll speak for us
both. Yes.”
“Good.” Pathfinder took each of them by the shoulder; Compass Rose stood next
to him, her hands over his. Piggot watched them disappear and then reappear
almost on the instant. They're getting better at this.
Then Pathfinder addressed Kaiser. “One more time. Do you agree with the terms
as given – that is, be out of town in forty-eight hours? If you refuse to
answer, I'm going to assume that you mean to kill us. Which means I'll be
perfectly justified in leaving you here to meet your end with nobody the wiser
except a bunch of people who have no idea where to find you, and remarkably
little motive to do so.”
Kaiser was silent for a long moment. “You wouldn't.”
“I would.”
“It would mean cape war. You will be targeted when everyone else realises that
I've disappeared. Brockton Bay would be a war zone.”
“I can always bring more people down here,” Pathfinder pointed out. “I don't
have to take them back.”
“The Empire Eighty-Eight would seek revenge. They would realise that you're the
one who took me.”
“You aren't listening!” shouted Pathfinder. “I do not care about the welfare of
villains! You've got the population scared into compliance! Well, enough! It's
time for you to be scared! There are many, many places in the world where I can
go, but nobody can return from!”
When Kaiser spoke next, his voice was once more smooth, his manner calculating.
“Director Piggot, are you honestly going to stand here and let this man
threaten me?”
“Gotta love it when a villain hides behind the law,” remarked Compass Rose
before the Director could respond. She turned to Pathfinder. “He's not gonna
give in.”
He nodded. “Looks like it.”
Piggot looked from one to the other. “You aren't going to -”
“We're going to do nothing to him,” Pathfinder told her. “He hasn't given you
anything, has he?”
Mutely, she shook her head.
“That's because he thinks he can win.” Pathfinder looked at the villain. “He
thinks he'll get loose and have his chance at revenge.”
“You can't leave me here.” Amazingly, the villain's voice was still smooth,
assured. “It's murder.”
Pathfinder took Compass Rose's hand. His other hand rested on Director Piggot's
shoulder. “The other guys knew when to quit. You don't.”
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and Piggot was sitting in her office once more.
She looked around at Pathfinder. “What are you going to do with him?”
“Check back occasionally over the next day or so,” he told her. “If he's
willing to play ball, he gets to come home. Otherwise … nope. I don't intend to
let anyone target Taylor. Ever.”
“So what about me?” the Director asked.
The two looked at one another, then back at her. She got the impression that a
great deal of silent communication had passed between them. “What about you?”
asked Pathfinder.
“I'm a witness to what you just did. Intimidation, perhaps extortion. Maybe
murder, if you leave Kaiser down there. Are you going to disappear me as well?”
“Don't see why I should,” Pathfinder decided. “Sure, you could tell people. But
that's more likely to start that cape war you're so scared of. In fact, it's in
your best interests to squash the story every time it crops up.”
She grimaced. He was right; she hated to admit it, but he was indeed right. And
although he hadn't actually mentioned it, they both knew that he had just made
her life easier by about a factor of ten. “Fine then,” she snapped. “I'll keep
your dirty little secret.” She stood and faced him. “But the both of you are
fired from the Protectorate as of right now. I can't have loose cannons working
for us.”
He didn't seem overly fazed. “We can call it 'leave of absence' or something
for the papers,” he agreed. “Don't worry, we aren't about to go villain.”
“Wasn't that what you just did?” she asked tartly. “You just broke the law in a
dozen ways.”
He grinned at her. “Well, not publicly,” he amended. He took Compass Rose's
hand and they disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Director Piggot was left staring as it dissipated. Christ, she thought. What do
I do now?
                                     <><>
Five minutes later, Rune ventured from the small bathroom, entirely naked. She
knew that Kaiser wanted to have sex with her, and she was slightly frightened,
but determined not to show it. While she wasn't a virgin, the penises of the
men – boys, rather – who had been with her had been much smaller than his.
I have to give what I can for the cause.
“I'm ready for you,” she called softly. Will he want to put it in my pussy or
my butt?
Puzzled, she looked around the empty office. Where is he?
At first, she thought he must have stepped out, so she arranged herself in a
seductive pose on the office sofa. After ten minutes, that got boring, and she
was a little chilly, so she put her clothes back on. Half an hour later, she
decided that he wasn't coming back, so she went home.
She never did tell anyone about the episode in the office.
                                     <><>
Twenty-Four Hours Later
"Do you understand the terms as I have outlined them?"
Kreig nodded, looking at the screen with its attached camera.  "I understand
totally, and I agree with them.  The Empire Eighty-Eight will give you no
further trouble."
Two chairs down, Kaiser struggled against his bonds and screamed invective. 
His bag only slightly muffled his voice as he did so.  "Kreig, get me out of
here!  That's an order!"
Kreig turned his head to look at where Kaiser was sitting.  "I would if I
could, but when it comes to a choice between you and my survival, I pick
myself.  Sorry."
Purple-brown smoke billowed behind him, and he was teleported away.
                                     <><>
Twenty-four hours after that, under the leadership of Kreig, the Empire Eighty-
Eight quietly left town. They were the last to go. The mysterious disappearance
of Kaiser and, in an unrelated matter, Max Anders, was never solved.
Or at least, those who knew the truth never spoke out about it.
***** Shell Game *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny and Taylor decide to find the perfect hiding place.
Armsmaster's Workshop

PRT Building ENE

1350 Hours EDT

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

“Colin.”

Armsmaster ignored the interruption, his eyes fixed to the eyepieces of the
viewer while he carefully eased an almost microscopic component into place on
the latest iteration of his Halberd.

“Colin. Your phone is ringing.”

Such was his focus that he managed to block out Dragon's voice as readily as he
blocked out the repeated tones of the phone at his elbow. Just a little more …

“Colin!”

Finally, it clicked into its designated socket. He eased the waldo away and
pressed the button to change out controls. The micro-welder flared to life and
affixed the component in place …

As soon as he shut down the welder, something cold and hard closed on his left
earlobe, pinching sharply. He jerked his head back, reflexively going hands-off
on the controls before they could do something drastic to his current project.

“Ow!” Rubbing his ear, which had been released as soon as he moved, he glared
at the errant waldo which was even now folding back into place on its stand.
“Dragon, was that you?”

“Yes, you idiot. You've been ignoring your phone for the last ten minutes.” The
image on the screen had an expression of exasperation that matched her tone
perfectly. “Answer it before I do it for you.”

With a start, he realised that she was correct. Snatching up the phone, he
blurted out, “Armsmaster.”

“About damn time, Mr Wallis.” Director Piggot's growl sounded particularly
irritated this morning. Which wasn't altogether surprising; she hadn't been too
happy over the last few days. He had no idea why, but he was just glad that he
wasn't on her bad side. Or rather, that he hadn't been on her bad side up until
now. “Your performance review is due today.”

Colin grimaced, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to shut out the harsh
reality which had just intruded on his world. What, today? “Didn't we have one
just a few months ago?”

“Yes, we did. And another one's due today. You have a habit of ducking out of
these things, so I chose to contact you directly instead of leaving you a
message. Report to my office.” The tone of her voice left him in no illusion as
to her state of mind. While he wasn't great at dealing with people, he knew
'pissed off' when he heard it.

He took a deep breath, trying to salvage something from the situation. “Can we
… reschedule it?”

“Certainly. You'll just be stepping down as team leader until you take it.” Her
voice was hard and unyielding. “We have much to go through. It's best to get it
over with today. I've blocked out half an hour in case we go longer than I've
projected.”

To his internal horror, he actually considered that for a second. To step down
as team leader meant that he'd have more time to Tinker, and he could possibly
put off any more performance reviews for the foreseeable fu … No, dammit. This
isn't gonna beat me. I'm better than that. I don't care how much this sucks, I
have to beat it. Leave the Director in no doubt that I'm the only choice for
team leader. “ … all right. I'll be up in five minutes.”

“You've got three.” She cut the call off before he could protest. He stared at
the phone, then slowly placed it back on the bench. Whatever was irritating the
Director, it was now affecting him directly. He couldn't put matters off any
longer, not without risking that she would actually go through with her threat.
With his luck, Dauntless would end up as team leader, and there was no way
in hell he was going to be accepting orders from that … that upstart.

If I hadn't answered my phone, she might just have done that anyway. At least
now I've got the chance to head it off. He drew a deep breath, realising just
how much he owed his fellow Tinker right now; the stinging in his pinched ear
notwithstanding. “Thanks, Dragon,” he said with a grimace. “I owe you one.”

“You were in the middle of Tinkering. It's understandable,” she replied with a
hint of a smile. “Go ahead. I'll clean up here.” Suiting action to word, she
started the waldos moving again, clearing away his workshop faster and more
efficiently than he would've been able to.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded. Picking up his helmet from the bench, he put it on
first, then let it power up while he was donning the gauntlets. The self-test
showed his armour to be green across the board, with two exceptions; the red
lights for those blinked out as the gauntlets linked into his armour's systems.
“Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” she said cheerfully as two of the larger waldos transferred the
Halberd to a holding rack. “Just remember, whatever you do: don't be
yourself.” She chuckled as she said it, so that was probably a joke. He hoped.

“Very funny,” he snapped. This time she did laugh, so he decided that he'd been
correct in his assumption. “Who else would I be, anyway?” An eye-flick to the
helmet HUD sent the correct signal to his workshop door and it opened before
him.

“The mind boggles,” she replied to his back; from her tone, she was almost
definitely smirking. “Assault, maybe. Or possibly Velocity.”

He managed to escape before any more possibilities occurred to her. She hadn't
mentioned Dauntless, which he suspected was due to her knowledge of how Colin
felt about the man. Colin was still touchy about any comparison to him which,
while it wasn't Dauntless' fault exactly, still led to tensions within the
team.

Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, he strode into Director Piggot's
office. He waited until the door was closed and locked behind him before he
took off his helmet. The issue wasn't with the helmet; as ergonomically
comfortable as he'd designed it, he could wear it all day without a problem.
However, he knew damn well that Piggot liked to look people in the eye while
she tore strips off of them, so off it came. It was easier all round to not
aggravate her on the matter, especially with her given mood. “Reporting as
directed, ma'am,” he said.

“Good.” He was relieved to note that she didn't look or sound as angry as she'd
been over the phone. Also, oddly enough, she didn't seem to have a performance
review document in front of her. “Have a seat.”

He blinked. “Ma'am?” It was standard procedure for the individual being
reviewed to remain standing. This kept them alert and reduced the chance of
complacency. He began to wonder what was reallygoing on. Nothing else about
Piggot was out of the ordinary, but that didn't mean she hadn't been Mastered,
or replaced by a Stranger.

She flicked a hand; the irritable gesture was one he'd seen a thousand times
before. “I said, sit down. This is not a performance review. That was merely a
ruse to get you into this office in such a way that every rumour-monger in this
building is commiserating with your plight rather than wondering what's really
going on.” Her steel-grey eyes became flinty with anger. “What you hear in this
room goes no farther without my express order. Do I make myself absolutely
clear?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Belatedly, he lowered himself into the reinforced chair. “What's
the problem?” Whatever it was, for Piggot to be going to these lengths to keep
the information so secure, it couldn't be good.

“The problem, Armsmaster, is that we've lost Pathfinder and Compass Rose.” Her
voice was brimming with anger as she spoke. Before he could ask, she went on.
“No, they aren't dead. It's worse than that. Three days ago, Pathfinder decided
to go off the reservation, and of course Compass Rose went along with him. You
may have noticed the distinct slump in gang-related crime over the past few
nights?”

Colin had indeed noted it, but he'd reached the tentative conclusion that the
gangs were holding off for something big. The gangs could always be relied on
to screw things up in some way or another, usually when the PRT was looking in
the wrong direction. “I'm assuming it's connected in some way?” Then a couple
of very large dots connected in his head. “Wait—you're saying that
Pathfinder didsomething to them?”

The Director looked mad enough to chew up horseshoes and spit out nails. “Yes.
He even took me along for the ride. Kaiser, Uber and L33t, and Accord. They all
got the same treatment. He threatened to disappear them if they didn't leave
town—or in Accord's case, promise never to come to Brockton Bay in the first
place. They all agreed, except for Kaiser. As far as I know, he's still down
there, wherever Pathfinder left him.” She subsided, still visibly seething.

“'Down there'?” Armsmaster frowned. “Where?” The phrase sounded ominous.

“Underwater,” she replied shortly. “Somewhere. He said it was half a mile under
the Atlantic, but I'm no diving expert. Any part of that statement could've
been a lie. But I have no doubt that it was an infeasible distance under the
ocean in some direction. And as far as I know, Kaiser's still there.”

To say that this put a new complexion on matters was to seriously understate
the situation. “That … could be very bad. Especially if the other villains find
out about it.” He didn't know exactly what they'd do—villains, as a whole,
tended to forego the whole 'cooperation' thing unless matters were dire—but it
wouldn't be good. Of course, this counted as 'dire' almost by definition.
“What's been done about Pathfinder?”

“Nothing, yet.” Piggot's expression twisted. “Officially, he's on paid leave,
along with Compass Rose. Unofficially, he's been fired. After he left me here,
he teleported away again. I've been spending the time in between doing my best
to locate where Kaiser may have been taken, and hoping that Pathfinder has an
attack of common sense. Unfortunately, neither one has panned out.”

“That's … bad,” he said. “Possibly catastrophic, even.” He was aware of the
understatement even as he spoke the words.

The grimace on her face assured him that she had the same thought in mind. “And
after all the work we did to ensure that nobody would pick them as father and
daughter, or reveal their incestuous relationship.” Her fist thudded on the
desk. “I should've realised that nobody is as good as they seem. Capes
especially.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded and tried to recall if there was a specific PRT
directive covering this kind of situation. None came to mind immediately. In
the case of superheroes leaving supervillains to starve to death without
official permission … “So, what are you planning to do about it?”

Her expression twisted sharply. “I'm telling you, in the hope that you can
provide some new insight that I can use. I'm not going to be telling the rest
of the PRT or Protectorate unless I absolutely have to.” She skewered him with
a look. “Do you understand why?” It was less a question than a statement: if
you don't understand why, ask.

He nodded slowly. “If the PRT were alerted, they would almost certainly go on
the offensive against Pathfinder and Compass Rose. This could be … bad.” Which
was, he knew, a massive understatement. Any single member of the PRT was
impossible to hide from Compass Rose, and was always vulnerable to being
grabbed by Pathfinder. Anyone coordinating an attack against the two of them
would be an obvious target, and key members of the Protectorate could likewise
be put out of the way with relative ease. He didn't think the Triumvirate would
be any sort of pushover, even to those two, but if matters got out of control
to that extent, both he and Emily would be looking for new work. And I've
worked too hard to get where I am.

Piggot nodded grimly. “We understand each other, then. Unless and until they
start targeting PRT or Protectorate assets, we keep this on the down-low. We
won't be idle, however; we'll continue to try to gather whatever information we
can on their movements and activities. And by 'we', I mean 'you'.” She gave him
a meaningful look.

At last, the reason she'd told him about this dawned on him. “And by 'me' you
mean 'Dragon'. Correct?” He could've kicked himself for not figuring it out
earlier. Piggot was old-school PRT; if she decided a secret needed to be kept,
she'd take it to her grave. There was no way in hell she would've just decided
to bring him into the loop, local head of the Protectorate or otherwise. But
his secure comms link with Dragon would let him tell the Tinker without anyone
else getting wind of it.

She favoured his realisation with a slight inclination of her head. “Very good,
Armsmaster. Tell her from me that she's got full authorisation to search every
traffic cam, every CCTV database, every repository of public footage she can
access within the jurisdiction of the PRT. I want to know where Daniel and
Taylor Hebert have gone and where they're staying. We need to find them before
they do this again, and perhaps kick off a cape war.”

Armsmaster nodded. “I'll tell her.” He rose and picked up his helmet. “Was
there anything else, ma'am?”

“Yes.” She smiled briefly. “Find them for me and you won't have to worry about
the performance review.” What she left unsaid, of course, was fail to find them
and it's your ass. Still, he heard it loud and clear.

“Message received and understood, Director.” He fitted his helmet back on to
his head. As it reconnected to his armour, he watched the status reports ripple
across the visor HUD.

“Good.” She nodded sharply. Reaching across to her computer, she turned it on.
“And one other thing.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Ma'am?”

Her expression wasn't quite a smile. “Remember that you've just had the
singular displeasure of being reviewed by me. We don't want people getting
suspicious.”

It wasn't often that he smiled, but this was one of those times. “You're
assuming this wasn't an unpleasant surprise, ma'am.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Understood. Now get to work.”

Turning, he went to the door and opened it, his jaw already setting grimly. As
he strode along the passage toward the elevator, he couldn't help
wondering. Where the hell have they gone? And what are they doing?

<><>

Wards Base

PRT Building ENE

0859 Hours EDT

Sunday, May 29, 2011

(Three Days Earlier)

Lisa keyed the mic. “Clockie, you might want to check around the corner to your
right. The last one's hiding behind the dumpster there.” She grinned as she
leaned back in the chair and stretched. Being in the Wards was actually kinda
fun, now that she was used to it. Rachel was patrolling with Armsmaster all the
time now; the pairing made for a rough and ready kind of teamwork that was
nonetheless very effective, not to mention efficient. Of course, Rachel and
even Brian were better at the field work than Lisa, but she didn't mind riding
the console desk at all.

“Got him!” Clockblocker's voice was a crow of triumph. “Insight, you're
friggin' awesome!”

“Yeah. I know.” Lisa turned and offered Aisha a high-five. The younger girl
laid off on munching popcorn to return it. Technically, Aisha was undergoing
training to become a Ward while her costume and name were finalised. In
reality, she hadn't felt like going out and about that day, and she couldn't
stay at home alone while Brian was on duty. Lisa had just about weaned her of
the habit of throwing popcorn at the computer screens, but she didn't think
Aisha would ever really do well on monitor duty. There was a certain lack of
attention span going on there.

“Hey, Lise.” Kid Win—Chris—pulled out a chair and sat down, just as the hour
ticked over. “Anything happening I need to know about?” He was the only Ward,
apart from Lisa, who honestly seemed to enjoy monitor duty. He also had a
strong crush on Taylor, which was kind of sad.

“Clockblocker and Aegis are dealing with some smash and grab idiots down on the
Boardwalk,” she reported crisply. “Vista and Gallant are signing autographs at
the Forsberg Gallery. No trouble reported there. Board's pretty well clear.”
She clicked the mouse to sign herself out of the system, then pushed herself
away from the monitor desk, letting the chair roll to a stop before she got up.
“All yours.”

“Sure thing,” he agreed, rolling his chair over to take up her vacated slot.
“So, how you getting on with learning the monitors, Aish?”

Aisha rolled her eyes. “I can do it,” she said. “But after about ten minutes of
the same shit all the time, I just wanna jam a pen in my eyesocket, you get
me?” She spun her chair in a circle. “It's so fucking boring.” Dropping her
heels to the floor so the chair dragged to a halt, she leaped up. “So, Lisa.
One on one? You pick the game.”

Lisa chuckled. “Gimme five. Just gotta go tinkle and wash my face. Set the game
up. You pick which one.” She rose from the chair and stretched again, rotating
her shoulders from side to side, which caused three different vertebrae to
click in her back. Sitting still for long periods of time did that. Still, it
was better than being shot at, or chased by murderous supervillains. Humming a
tune, she meandered off toward the bathrooms, stopping at the kitchenette to
set the coffee machine going. If there was one real benefit to being in the
Wards, it was that they had an excellent coffee machine.

As she entered the Wards' bathrooms, she could hear Aisha cackling as she
sorted happily through the stack of games next to the console. With a grin, she
suppressed her power so that she wouldn't figure out what the game was going to
be before she got back out there. Which, in turn, was why she was caught
unawares when brownish-purple smoke billowed before her. A gloved hand grabbed
her arm; before she could even yelp in surprise, she was standing on an uneven
expanse of red sandstone. And, oh yeah. It was night-time again.

“What the fuck?” she demanded, letting her power out to play. Constellations
indicate southern hemisphere. Time of night would make it Australia. I'm
standing on that thing they call Ayers Rock.“Why are we in
goddamn Australia?” On the heels of her question, her power probed the two
capes before her. “You've done something. Screwed up. Pissed off Piggot. And
now you want something from me.”

“We're here because it's remote, there's photos of it, and nobody comes up here
after dark,” Pathfinder explained. “You're here because we need some
information from you.” A flashlight clicked on, and she saw that he was
offering her a notepad and pen. “Specifically, a list of people.”

“What people?” she asked blankly.

He told her.

<><>

Baumann Parahuman Containment Center

British Columbia

0555 Hours PDT

Sunday, May 29, 2011

The first that Paige knew of Susie being awake was when her pyjama top was
pushed up and a warm hand cupped around her left breast. “Morning, girlfriend,”
her cellmate murmured. “You were really into it last night. Never thought you'd
go that far.”

Paige blushed in the dimness of the cell. She'd never thought she would either.
It was nice to be touched and held, but she'd been reluctant to go further, at
least until Susie had brought back the bottle of home-made booze from the swap
meet. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know what Susie had swapped for it,
because she hadn't taken anything valuable with her.

The alcohol had been nearly tasteless and she'd had too much of it. Her blush
deepened as she recalled exactly what she'd done with, and to, Susie. The
strap-on dildo belonged to their neighbours, but Susie had managed to borrow
it; Paige recalled grunting, holding on to Susie's hips, as she fucked her
cellmate to one orgasm after another. The obscenities that had spilled from
Susie's lips had merely served to spur Paige on until they'd collapsed in a
sweaty mess. Then, of course, Susie had claimed the sex toy and Paige hadn't
argued. In fact, she'd offered herself willingly, shamelessly, to Susie's
advances. Now, she felt sore in both her pussy and ass, and she knew that Susie
had to feel the same way.

When they'd begun their relationship, it had been barely worth the name. One
more tiny sacrifice to be made in order to survive inside the Birdcage. It
wasn't as though Susie—Lantrai—had ever forced herself on Paige, or was even
really a lesbian, any more than Paige was. But they were cellmates, and both
were reasonably pretty. This meant that one of the top girls in Lustrum's
coterie would take notice of them sooner or later, and the 'courtship' would
begin. Rather than be forced into something that they definitely didn't want to
do, they'd turned to each other. It wasn't love, or even any sort of real
passion, but it helped ease the loneliness a little. The trouble was that
sometimes Susie got a little clingy and wanted to share Paige's bunk, just to
cuddle. Sometimes Paige was okay with this, but more often she was not. It was
easier not to complain, though, so she just went along with it. And on this
occasion, the alcohol had led to rather more than Paige had been prepared for.

Susie, being the taller of them, was behind Paige with a hand cupping her naked
breast; she didn't seem to mind that this put her back up against the cell
wall. Paige had to admit that it was just a little bit of a turn-on, especially
when Susie murmured particularly salacious suggestions into her ear. Even as
she wondered if they'd ever get back to the way things were, she felt Susie
pulling her pyjama bottoms down. Susie's free hand wandered over her buttocks,
then slid into the cleft of her ass. She shivered and pushed her ass back at
the invading hand; while she didn't want this to happen, the memory of pleasure
was too strong.

When she felt the phallus push between her thighs, her eyes widened. Susie's
hand was already stroking her labia, nimble fingers parting her folds of flesh,
and she knew that she was going to give in so very soon. “Please,” she
whimpered.

“Please what?” Susie's nails dug lightly into her breast, and her nipples
hardened almost instantly. “You gonna beg me to fuck you? Because that turns me
on so goddamn hard.”

Paige swallowed. “Take your clothes off. I want to see your body. And get on
top. Kiss me. Tell me you love me.” This was a huge step, she knew. This was
acknowledging the feelings that Susie was awakening in her. There would be no
way back from this, no way back to the nice, safe semi-celibate pairing that
they'd had before.

Susie gave a low, throaty laugh. “Oh, you dirty, dirty girl. I knew you were
getting into it.” She wriggled over Paige's body, pressing her substantial
breasts against her as she went, then climbed out of bed altogether. She was,
of course, still wearing the makeshift sex toy; as she pulled her top over her
head, it jutted out proudly from her hips. Paige watched as her breasts changed
shape, trying to feel the same excitement that had driven her last night. She
licked her lips as the dildo swayed toward her, recalling how she'd bent Susie
over the bunk and taken her like a common whore. The fire and excitement in her
belly as she screwed her bunkmate with lustful abandon, then let Susie do
exactly the same to her.

The orgasms had been amazing.

Slowly, she stood up and let her pyjama bottoms fall to the floor. She took the
hem of her top in her hands and lifted it up, pulling it over her head and
dropping it to the floor. This left her naked before Susie, entirely vulnerable
and open to the plastic cock with which she would soon be begging the other
woman to fuck her. Her heart was beating faster than ever as she stepped
forward and tentatively kissed Susie, the first time she'd ever initiated
intimate play. At least, sober.

Susie returned the kiss, her lips plundering Paige's, their tongues twining
erotically together. Paige felt the excitement beginning to overtake her once
more; without breaking the kiss, she let herself sag back toward the bunk.
Their lips only slipped apart when Paige lay down properly, spreading her legs
wide to accommodate her lover. She felt wanton, abandoned … anticipatory. So
long she'd been denying herself this.

“God, I love you.” Susie's voice was rough with desire. “I never knew how much
till last night. I never knew how much I was into girls till last night. I'm
gonna fuck you till you can't stand it.” She knelt between Paige's willingly
spread thighs and reached forward to cup her breasts. Paige caught her breath
as she felt her nipples being pinched, a sharp thrill of pleasure darting down
to add to her roiling excitement.

Susie bent her head over Paige's crotch. Feathers grew there as well, but
fortunately not in any abundance. Paige clutched at her own breasts and bit her
lip as she felt the first touch of Susie's mischievous tongue. It was followed
by more, causing wave after wave of orgasmic bliss to smash through her brain.
And then, as she was recovering from that, Susie was on top of her. Paige cried
out as the dildo pushed into her, parting her delicate labia and possessing her
tight pussy. She clutched at Susie as she felt the plastic cock ram itself into
her to the very hilt, where it had been many times on the previous night. Now,
it felt huge, as though it were stretching her wider than she'd ever been
before.

Her nails dug into Susie's back, eliciting another thrust, almost as rough, as
Susie kissed her hard. She felt as though she were being ravished, taken almost
against her will. This perversely excited her, and she dug her nails in harder.
Blood started from her lip where Susie's teeth nipped at it, but she didn't
care. All she cared about was the mounting tide of pleasure between her legs,
as Susie fucked her unmercifully with the strap-on dildo.

She barely noticed when the large burst of purple-brown smoke erupted into the
middle of the cell. Arching her back, she reached down under Susie and rubbed
hard at her clit, triggering her first climax of the day. At the same time, a
hand grabbed her by the arm. She cried out, arching her back in orgasmic
pleasure … and landed on soft, fluffy sand, with Susie still on top of her.

Still reeling in the aftermath of the orgasm, Paige had no idea what was going
on. Susie wasn't much better; she thrust several more times into Paige's wet
and very willing pussy before she registered that she was kneeling on sand.
Opening her eyes, she met Paige's wide-open gaze, then looked around with some
astonishment.

“What the hell?” Susie pulled the dildo out of Paige as she got up, staring at
the man and woman who stood a short distance away. Paige also got up, although
she was acutely aware of her own nakedness, not to mention the fact she'd just
been having her brains screwed out. “Who the fuck are you, and where in goddamn
hell are we?”

Paige didn't say a word; she just looked around as she brushed the sand out of
her hair and off her back and butt. They were standing on a beach, composed of
the same fluffy white sand that was still clinging to parts of her anatomy.
Overhead, the sun sent slivers of brilliance down between the fronds of a huge
palm tree. Looking out at the expanse of sand, she had to shade her eyes from
the reflected glare of the sun, and from its glitter off the small wavelets
making their way into shore. The ocean, and the sky above it, looked so
gorgeously blue that it made her chest hurt.

She didn't know where she was, but she knew this much: I'm out of the Birdcage.

<><>

Wards Base

PRT Building ENE

At the Same Time

Lisa finished washing her hands and strolled out of the bathroom, her head
still spinning from what had just happened. While she wasn't really sure what
Pathfinder and Compass Rose had done to earn the Director's ire, she owed them
so much—for Coil and the Undersiders both—that she hadn't even considered not
giving them what they wanted. Though what they want with the names of the
Birdcage inmates who got shafted, I really don't want to know.

“Hey, you all right there, Lisa?” Aisha craned her head around from the sofa as
the game screen began to load. “You spent so long, I was startin' to worry.
Thought you mighta got lost.”

Chris' head began to turn. Shit—no. Move along, nothing weird going on
here. “Hah, no,” Lisa said with a smile that felt like a weak imitation of her
usual smartass grin. “But you might want to wait a while if you need to go.
Kinda unpleasant in there right now.”

Aisha cackled out loud, while Chris whipped his head back around to study the
monitor screens with commendable intensity. “Oh, man. That takes me back.
Remember pizza night in the old hideout? How Brian always used to order
anchovies on the pizza?”

Lisa remembered all too well. Brian was a nice guy, but letting him eat
anchovies led to the bathroom being uninhabitable by man or beast for the next
twenty-four hours. So it fell to Lisa to distract him while Regent snuck the
phone into the other room and changed the order. Brian always bitched about how
they screwed up the order, and they never told him why.

“Why?” asked Chris, evidently screwing up his courage to ask the question.
“What's wrong with anchovies on pizza?”

Lisa shook her head gently, even as Aisha cackled again. “Just … if you guys
are ever getting pizza in, and Tenebrae wants anchovies, don't let him have
them. Just don't.”

“Ah.” This was a subject Chris was apparently familiar with. “So noted. Aegis
is the same with mushrooms. I have no idea why. Apparently super-adaptability
doesn't translate to making that sort of thing not stink.”

Aisha laughed so hard she fell off the couch.

<><>

Somewhere in the Tropics

1410 Hours GMT

Sunday, May 29, 2011

“We're on a small island off the coast of Africa.” It was the man who spoke.
While both of the capes were taller than Paige, he was significantly more so.
In addition, the long-coat gave him a certain air of authority. “As for how you
got here, we teleported you. I'm Pathfinder, this is Compass Rose.”

“Woooo!” screamed Susie, then grabbed Paige and spun her around in a circle. “I
don't know how the hell you pulled this off, girlfriend, but I love you for it!
We're outta the Cage, baby!” Pulling Paige close, she delivered a passionate
kiss to the singer's lips. “Now let's go find a bar and a motel room, so we can
get drunk and fuck each other stupid and forget the last six fuckin' months!”

“There's more to it than that,” Pathfinder said. His goggles were tinted, but
Paige thought he might be checking her out. “We have it on good authority that
you really shouldn't have been in the Birdcage at all. But you weren't the only
ones.”

Paige didn't know about anyone else, except for Susie of course, but the rush
of relief was almost palpable. Finally, someone was paying attention! “I
shouldn't have been there at all,” she replied, as calmly as she could manage.
“But they wouldn't let me talk at the trial, and the judge ignored the three-
strikes rule and sentenced me to the Birdcage even though I'd never done
anything else wrong.” She felt hot tears stinging her eyes at the reminder of
how the trial had gone. A torture device masquerading as a gag, Brute-level
restraints, and her hands submerged in buckets of containment foam; they
couldn't have done a better job of portraying her as a dangerous parahuman if
they'd tried.Paige still wasn't convinced her so-called lawyer had even been
there to try to defend her. Maybe he was there just to make it look good while
they twisted the law into a pretzel in order to condemn her to the closest
approximation of Hell that existed on Earth Bet. I wish I could've told him to
go fuck himself. But she didn't really mean that. Violence, in any form, was
anathema to her.

He gave her another solid up and down. “That's what I thought,” he agreed. “And
you?” Momentarily, his head turned toward Susie.

Paige's lover left off eyeing Compass Rose and nodded firmly. “Yeah, that was
bullshit. I needed some money, so I took the mayor of some midwest town
hostage, along with his family. Then I told 'em to pay part of the ransom in
cheeseburgers, because I got hungry. I didn't know it at the time, but they
drugged the burgers. So when I gave the mayor's kids some, they got sick.
Allergic reaction. The youngest one died. It all got blamed on me, the mayor
called in some favours, and I got Birdcaged.” She put her hands on her hips,
supremely unconcerned with her nakedness. The dildo wobbled again. “Like I
said, bullshit.”

“But you never intended for anyone to get hurt?” The girl—she was almost as
tall as Pathfinder, but Paige put her at maybe eighteen or nineteen—couldn't
seem to tear her attention away from Susie's ample bosom.

Susie shook her head, her short dreadlocks whipping from side to side. “Fuck,
no. I was really cut up about it. All I was doing—trying to do—was get some
money in a hurry.” She stepped closer to Compass Rose. “So who do I have to
fuck to get you to let us stay here?”

Compass Rose shook her head. “Not a good idea. Nobody lives here. There's no
fresh water, and no reliable food source. The closest civilisation is fifty
miles that way.” She pointed out over the ocean. If she squinted, Paige fancied
she could see a faint shadow on the horizon.

“The hell? Why'd you bring us here then? Is this some sort of sick fuckin' joke
to you?” The irony, of course, was that while Susie could fly, she could only
cover a dozen or so miles at a time. Paige knew this because Susie had told
her; she wondered if the newcomers also knew it.

“We brought you here because we wanted to talk to you in private,” Pathfinder
said. “And we didn't want to wait around until you finished.”

Paige inhaled the breeze that came in off the ocean, redolent with the odours
of salt and seaweed. While she'd never been one for the beach, it was the most
glorious thing she'd ever smelt. “Um, so what happens now? And who are you here
for? Me or her?”

“Both of you, in fact,” agreed Compass Rose. “I've studied your files, just in
case there was ever a breakout from the Birdcage, and because I was kind of
curious. And it turns out there's a certain number of you who don't deserve to
be in there.” She looked from Paige to Susie. “Also, because we've become less
than convinced that the PRT knows what it's doing, these days.”

“Okay,” said Susie. “So why bring us here? Instead of, say, LA? Or hell, even
Jersey? Why the middle of goddamn nowhere?” Her fists had unclenched, and she
looked more curious than angry now.

“Because we didn't want you just bolting on us.” Pathfinder unfolded his arms.
“You wouldn't get away, but it'd be awkward and irritating to round you up
again. Besides, we've got another reason. Specifically, we need to hide out for
a while, and the Birdcage is the one place on Earth that nobody will be looking
for us.”

Paige stared at him. “You want to … stay there?” She shook her head. “That's …”
Words failed her, and she shook her head again. “I can't even …”

“It's so goddamn crazy it's brilliant,” Susie said. “You're right. Nobody's
gonna come looking for you there. But you're also locking yourselves in with
the most terrifying fucking villains in the world. Ever think of that?”

Pathfinder waggled his hand from one side to the other. “Well, for that matter,
I was thinking of putting something to them. Something that might ease tensions
a little, at least until we can work out a more permanent arrangement.” He
paused, most likely for effect. “I was thinking of introducing the concept of
'day release' to the Birdcage.”

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