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Security! (a Worm SI fic)

Ack said:
That's for the NSFW omake. Which I am not writing. Unless I get a great deal of inspiration and time on my hands :p
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...but if Taylor and Amy are going to be sisters...

...and Amy is accepting the adoption partially to get away from the sister she already has, because she's in love with Vicky...

...so Amy has been attracted to her sister long enough that for her and Taylor to have a relationship, she has to be adopted before they can start dating?



...kinky.
 
Slayer Anderson said:
...but if Taylor and Amy are going to be sisters...

...and Amy is accepting the adoption partially to get away from the sister she already has, because she's in love with Vicky...

...so Amy has been attracted to her sister long enough that for her and Taylor to have a relationship, she has to be adopted before they can start dating?



...kinky.
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(sigh)

Nope. :p
 
Ack said:
"But you knew what I was doing. If you're okay with that, what's wrong with what I was saying?"

"Let's play back the recording," suggested Emily dryly, "and see if you can't figure it out."

=//=//=​
Cody

He hesitated in the doorway of the surgery, looking for the doctor.
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I actually found this transition a little jarring. For the first 1/2 of the Cody part was trying to figure out what Riley had said to Mike to get Piggot so worked up, given that Riley's talk to Mike happened immediately before the Piggot PoV.

Perhaps throwing in a "2 hours prior" or similar line would make things clearer.
 
edale said:
I actually found this transition a little jarring. For the first 1/2 of the Cody part was trying to figure out what Riley had said to Mike to get Piggot so worked up, given that Riley's talk to Mike happened immediately before the Piggot PoV.

Perhaps throwing in a "2 hours prior" or similar line would make things clearer.
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That was actually deliberate on my part. The intent was to have people wondering what Riley said to Mike that was so wrong before realising she's referring to what Riley said to Cody in the recording they then watch. :p
 
Ack said:
That was actually deliberate on my part. The intent was to have people wondering what Riley said to Mike that was so wrong before realising she's referring to what Riley said to Cody in the recording they then watch. :p
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It just doesn't seem to mesh with the rest of the chapter's style, the rest seems to be chronological except for that one part... and really, making your readers re-read the riley/mike converstion 3-4 times before giving up and moving on is just bad writing... or trolling.... same thing really.
 
edale said:
It just doesn't seem to mesh with the rest of the chapter's style, the rest seems to be chronological except for that one part... and really, making your readers re-read the riley/mike converstion 3-4 times before giving up and moving on is just bad writing... or trolling.... same thing really.
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Not many people seemed to be confused by it.
 
Ack said:
Not many people seemed to be confused by it.
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I wouldn't put it in quite as strong language, but I'm actually with edale on this one. It sounds like it was purposeful confusion, and that's a thing that's worked for you before, but this time seemed a little heavy on the reader uncertainty and a little light on the payoff.
 
If it needs fixing, what would you suggest?
 
Ack said:
It would have to be afterward, given that she makes no mention of being banned from the cafeteria.
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Right, but that's information that comes out afterward. She isn't banned from the cafeteria until after the flashback to Cody finishes, by which time the reader has figured out the timing anyway. Just starting the Cody section with "Earlier" or the like would dispel the initial confusion about when that scene takes place, while still letting the reader think Piggot was talking about Mike until the Cody scene begins.
 
pepperjack said:
Right, but that's information that comes out afterward. She isn't banned from the cafeteria until after the flashback to Cody finishes, by which time the reader has figured out the timing anyway. Just starting the Cody section with "Earlier" or the like would dispel the initial confusion about when that scene takes place, while still letting the reader think Piggot was talking about Mike until the Cody scene begins.
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Okay, I'll give that a go.
 
Am......am I the only one who reads something fully then goes back to reread it if I didn't understand it? Because doing it that way didn't leave me any real trouble in understanding it......And are we that impatient to finish reading things?
 
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Acererak said:
Am......am I the only one who reads something fully then goes back to reread it if I didn't understand it? Because doing it that way didn't leave me any real trouble in understanding it......And are we that impatient to finish reading things?
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No, you're not, but perhaps you've misunderstood the nature of the objection? If reader confusion is avoidable - even momentary confusion - then an alteration that avoids it is desirable, as it improves the reader's experience.
 
I've never considered momentary confusion of that nature to be worth commenting on, let alone complaining about, and seeing it brought up in-thread always kind of baffles me.
 
alethiophile said:
I've never considered momentary confusion of that nature to be worth commenting on, let alone complaining about, and seeing it brought up in-thread always kind of baffles me.
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It's less complaining and more constructive criticism.

Giving the author active feedback on something that could be improved, as well as a suggestion on how to improve it, so that the author can improve their writing skills.

That type of ploy can be used successfully, but how it was done in this chapter just messed with immersion.

It just so happens Ack is one of the authors that'll actually listen and try to fix things.:D
 
edale said:
It just so happens Ack is one of the authors that'll actually listen and try to fix things.:D
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He's one of the ones that would make a good professional writer, because stuff like this is exactly what a professional editor would tell him, and not flipping out and starting a flamewar with your editor is the mark of a professional writer.
 
I haven't mentioned it before but re-read everything once more and Dragon-Mom is adorable, as are Pandora and Theresa.
Can't stop imagining Dragon as Toriel (Undertale) now.
 
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Security!

Part Forty-Nine: Trouble in Paradise


Mike

"Wow. Can that house get any more decorated?"

Gladys looked the house over as we cruised past in the pickup. "I'm not sure. Possibly. How did they hang those ones off the gutters?"

"That's a good question," I admitted. "I don't think Danny's got a ladder that long."

Paying attention to the road once more, I picked out a parking spot and reversed into it. As I did so, Gladys let out a sound of satisfaction. "Ah, I see."

"You see what?" I concentrated on not backing into the car behind me.

"Glory Girl."

I stopped the vehicle, engaged the park brake and killed the engine. Then I looked around to see what she was talking about. A slim blonde form, dressed in jeans and T-shirt, was hovering alongside the house, attaching yet more streamers to the guttering. The house was old and the streamers numerous; I wondered how much it could take before the gutter fell off altogether under the weight of decorations. Vicky looked around and waved; I waved back.

"Huh. Amy must have asked her nicely."

Gladys looked just a little wistful as we got out of the vehicle. "It must be nice to be able to fly."

"Not so very much, from what I understand," I noted as I retrieved the long postage cylinder from where it had been residing next to Gladys. I also grabbed the shopping bag with party supplies, as she had her hands full with the cake. Once I had my door shut, I ducked around the vehicle to do the same for her.

"Thank you," she murmured. "What do you mean, not so much?"

"Well, it's like this," I explained as we strolled across the road. "Powers cause conflict and conflict generates powers. If you have powers, including flight, then you've obviously been through some kind of really horrible experience. Also, powers kind of address your problems at the point of triggering without solving them altogether, because they want more and more conflict."

"Oh. So if you have powers, you also have other problems?"

"Kind of comes with the territory, yes," I agreed. "At the very core of it is the need to use your powers, to improve them. It's an internal push that most people don't even recognise as happening. Worse, your personality will probably undergo a change, from imperceptible to dramatic, to facilitate this need for conflict."

We emerged from the driveway into the back yard; a whole new selection of decorations had been put up here, as had some folding chairs and tables. Taylor was just helping Danny to set out a couple of these; they looked around as we appeared.

"Oh, hey, Mike, Gladys," Danny greeted us. "Good to see you. Oh, excellent, the cake."

Taylor looked less than surprised to see us, but then, I wasn't overly astonished. She's probably been tracking us since Gladys' place. She smiled as she came over. "Thanks for coming," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"Think I'd miss it?" I held out my fist.

Her smile widened slightly as she bumped it. "Well, I'm still glad you could make it. What with all that's been happening." Her eyes fell on the postage cylinder that I was carrying; it was wrapped in festive birthday paper. "Okay, what's that one?"

"You'll find out when you open it," I pointed out. "Where do I put it for now?"

"On the kitchen table inside," Danny advised. "If you can find room."

"You're not wrong," Taylor added. "I haven't had this many presents for years."

That's because you haven't had this many friends for years. But I didn't say it out loud. "Well, happy birthday, kiddo. How's it feel to be sixteen at last?"

She wrinkled her nose. "About a day older than fifteen?"

Gladys chuckled. "Trust me, that bit doesn't change." She nodded toward the back door. "Be a dear and open the door for me, Mike? I need to get this inside before the flies get to it."

"Yeah, that's one thing you don't have to worry about." Taylor's grin rivalled one of Lisa's for smugness.

Gladys rolled her eyes. "Well, I need to get it inside anyway."

Chuckling, I opened the door for her; we entered, surprising Amy, who was in the process of blowing up a balloon. It slipped from her fingers and blurted its way around the room as she turned toward us. "Oh, hi!" she said happily. "Mike, Mrs Knott. So good you could make it."

"I see you've managed to rope Vicky into hanging decorations," I observed as I put the postage cylinder with the rest of the presents. Taylor hadn't been wrong; the pile was impressive.

"Yeah," Amy agreed as Gladys put the cake down carefully. "She came over early and wanted to help out, so Dad suggested that." She paused and turned pink. "Oh god, did they tell you?"

I shared a glance with Gladys; she shrugged. "Tell us what?" she asked.

Amy seemed to be struggling with some strong emotion. "I don't know if I should tell you yet," she almost whispered. "Vicky doesn't know yet. It's not settled."

"Um …" I paused. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good," she told me. "Really good. I just hope … look, I don't want to get your hopes up. I don't want to get my hopes up."

"It's a bit late for that, I think," Gladys observed with just a little amusement. She turned to me. "Mike, you're supposed to be the one in the know. Do you have any idea what she's talking about?"

I shrugged as elaborately as I knew how. "Zip, zero and bugger-all. Totally in the dark, here." We both gave Amy an appraising stare; she turned a delicate shade of pink under our combined scrutiny. "So whatever is going on, it's off the beaten track."

"I think -" But whatever Gladys thought was interrupted by a knock on the front door. We each looked at one another. "I think someone should get that."

"Good idea," Amy agreed, already on the way into the living room.

I followed, mildly curious. Gladys plucked the bag of party supplies – frozen sausages and almost-frozen soft drink – from my hand as I did so. I figured they were fridge-bound; Gladys was always practical that way.

Amy opened the front door. "Hi -" she began, then stopped. "Uh, who are you?"

"Is Taylor home?" asked Alan Barnes. He frowned, as if he couldn't quite place her.

=///=​

From behind Amy, I cleared my throat. "That depends on what you're here for." I didn't think he'd be stupid enough to come here looking for trouble, but the thing with Cody had surprised me, so I wasn't taking any chances.

"Oh, uh, Mr Allen," Barnes greeted me. "I – that is, Emma wanted to say something to Taylor. Something important."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is it the same something important that she wanted me to pass on to Taylor a while ago?"

Alan turned his head; a moment later, he looked back at us. "She says yes."

"Hm." I scratched my beard, then turned to Amy. "Think you could go grab Taylor and Danny for me, kiddo? I think they need to decide on this one."

"Sure thing, Mike," she said and trotted off down the front hall toward the kitchen.

Emma's father watched her go, his frown deepening. "Should I know her? She looks familiar, somehow."

I smiled briefly. "You've never met Panacea before?"

His eyes widened. "Of course. How did I not see it?"

"Out of context, out of costume." I shrugged. "There's been studies made on how capes manage to keep their real identities secret when a domino mask shouldn't really be able to cut it. You just saw living proof of how it works, and she's one of the public capes."

"Huh." He seemed ill-at-ease, standing there in the doorway, but I wasn't about to invite him into another man's home on my own accord. Besides, I figure that everyone needs to experience feeling out of place once in a while. It's good for the character.

Danny came in through the living room, with Taylor and Amy behind him. He stopped beside me and looked his visitor over. "Alan."

"Danny." If anything, Alan managed to look even more uncomfortable.

"Didn't expect to see you here, especially today. Or ever, come to think about it."

Alan cleared his throat. "Wasn't my idea. Emma's been working up to this for a while."

Taylor spoke up. "This better not be her idea of screwing up my birthday."

"No, no, nothing like that." Alan grimaced. "Look, can we come in?"

Danny glanced at Taylor; just for a moment, they shared a silent communication. Then she nodded. Turning back to Alan, Danny repeated the gesture more curtly. "Come on in. Let's make this quick. I've got guests arriving soon." Implicit in the statement were the unspoken words and you're not one of them.

We trooped back into the living room; Emma came up the steps and joined us. When Taylor saw her, her eyes widened slightly. Outwardly, the red-headed girl was still as striking as when I had first met her; her clothing was perfect. But she wore very little or no makeup, and her attitude was profoundly different. She seemed hunched in on herself, and she hadn't raised her eyes once. I'd seen her since the incident at Winslow with Bakuda and the bomb collar. It seemed that Taylor had not.

"Wow, Emma," she commented, "you look like hell." Emma winced; Alan's grimace deepened.

"She's been through a lot," I said non-committally. "Did I tell you that she saved Gladly's life?"

"I think you mentioned something about that, yeah." Taylor, of course, knew all about it. She'd been there. I, of course, had a slightly better perspective on what Emma had gone through.

Danny cleared his throat meaningfully. "So you had something to say, Emma?"

Emma drew a deep breath, then looked up at Taylor for the first time. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I mean it. I'm really, truly sorry. For everything I ever did."

"I'm not saying I don't believe you," Taylor stated, "but you have actually said sorry before."

Emma shook her head slightly. "That … that was about what I did. Because I was caught, and I was sorry. But since Bakuda … I've learned what it's like to be totally at another person's mercy. Again. And this time it was Mr Allen who came to my rescue. Who put his life on the line for me."

"Instead of Sophia, you mean?" Taylor filled in. At the surprised glances from Alan and Emma, she shrugged. I was impressed; she didn't even so much as glance at me. "What? I can't figure things out on my own?"

"Yeah, well," Emma agreed. "When Sophia saved me, she … well, she was never in any real danger. Mr Allen could have died." She looked at me. "You showed me what real strength was. Doing something you knew you had to do, not because it was easy, but because it was the right thing to do."

I blinked. "Um, that's not a bad definition, at that."

Emma turned back to Taylor. "So I want to say I'm sorry for being such a moron and throwing our friendship away," she said in a rush. "I know it'll never be the same between us, and even if we ever do get to be friends again it won't be today, but I want you to know that I kind of know how it felt to be you, all the times we ever played mean tricks on you and screwed up your life."

"Wow." Taylor shook her head. "Just wow. I never expected to hear that from you. Like, ever."

"She's been getting therapy, after the Bakuda thing," Alan interjected. "I think it's helping."

"Good," I stated flatly. "Now if only you'd thought to do that, say, two years ago."

He had the good grace to look embarrassed, which only intensified after Emma nodded. "And I got something for you," she added. Taking her hands from behind her back, she offered a long thin box to Taylor.

Taylor blinked. "You brought me a present?"

"Call it an 'I'm-sorry' gift," Emma told her. "Go on, open it. Please."

I was starting to think I might know what it might be; from the dawning look on Taylor's face, I figured that she had an idea too. No way. That was at least six months ago.

Slowly, Taylor lifted the lid off of the box. Within, nestled on tissue paper, was … "A flute?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"It's not the same one," Emma explained hastily. "I tried to find out what Sophia did with your mom's one, but she refused to tell me anything and her family couldn't help me. So I went and got another one. I mean, I know it's not the same, but it's the best way I know of to say I'm sorry I didn't make her give it back then."

Taylor's eyes were suspiciously bright as she lifted the flute from its box. "Thank you, Emma." Her voice was just a little husky. "It's just like the one she had."

Emma's father nodded. "I made sure of that."

"Good," Danny said. "It's beautiful. And I appreciate the gesture."

"Me too," Taylor agreed, replacing the flute in the box. "Like you said, it's not the same, but … it still means something. Quite a bit, actually." Unconsciously, her thumb traced over the lines of the instrument.

"Good. I'm glad." Emma paused, as if unsure as to what to say next.

Alan Barnes nodded. "Well, I think it's time we went."

"Yeah, probably." Together, father and daughter went out on to the front porch, where Emma paused. She looked back at Taylor and tentatively held out her hand. "So, uh, truce? For now?"

Taylor nodded slowly and shook her hand. "Truce. For now."

Emma's smile was wan, but it was there. "Thank you. And happy birthday."

"Danny?" It was Alan Barnes. "Before we go?"

"Yeah?"

He held out his hand. "I'm sorry for everything Emma did. And for what I said. I'd take it back in a heartbeat, if I could."

Danny eyed his ex-friend's hand for a moment, then shook it. "This doesn't make things right. But it's a start. Just … do better, okay?"

"Yeah. We're working on it. One day at a time."

Danny nodded. "It's the only way."

They went down off the porch, both avoiding the rotten step, and walked out toward their car. It wasn't hard to pick out; it was the most expensive car on the street. Neither of them looked back.

We watched as they got in and drove away, then Danny shut the door.

"Wow." Taylor looked down at the flute. "Did that just happen?"

"I kind of think it did," Amy said. "It's a beautiful flute. Your mom had one like it and Sophia took it?"

"Yeah." Taylor lifted it out of the tissue paper again. "It's just like the one she used to have. Come on, let's finish getting set up and I'll tell you about it." Together they headed off; Danny and I watched them go.

"It took me the longest time to find out where that flute had gotten to," he mused. "And even longer to get her to understand that I wasn't mad at her for taking it to school. I was just angry and upset at the school for letting that crap happen."

"Yeah well, shit happens," I sympathised.

"Really?" he asked, deadpan. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," I replied, equally expressionless. "I think I even saw it on a T-shirt somewhere."

With a snort, he slapped me on the back. "Come on, let's go set the barbecue up."

"A barbecue birthday party. Sounds legit."

He headed down the front hall; I followed. "Hey, if it works, it works."

I couldn't argue.

=///=​

We had just gotten the barbecue started to Danny's satisfaction when the side gate twanged. I looked around to see two familiar faces. "Kurt, Lacey," I greeted them. "Long time no see."

"Mike," the male Dockworker replied. "You look like you've been through a bit."

"Eh, security guarding in Brockton Bay isn't as cushy a job as working on the docks," I jibed.

He grinned and stuck out his hand. I shook it, careful to keep my grip moderate. Still, he seemed to notice something. "You've been doing something," he noted. "Been working out?"

"Gotta keep fit somehow," I hedged, then shook Lacey's hand. "Nice to see you both."

"And you too, Mike," she said. "I hear Taylor's doing well."

"Once they got her out of that hellhole they call Winslow, yeah," Danny agreed, joining us. "She's at Arcadia now and making friends." He tilted his head my way. "Mike won't admit it, but he had a little to do with that."

Kurt and Lacey both looked my way; I shrugged. "Security guards see and hear things. I had a word with the principal about what I'd seen and heard, and she saw it my way." Which was a massive understatement, not to mention a gross misrepresentation of the facts, but it sounded good.

Both Kurt and Lacey were nodding wisely now. "Damn bureaucrats," Kurt muttered. "They can't see the nose on their face until you point it out."

"Hey, you know I'm one of those damn bureaucrats," Danny pointed out mildly.

"Yeah, but you're the exception to the rule," Lacey told him kindly. "You've actually got a working brain."

"She's got a point," I said. "Beers?"

"Beers," Kurt agreed.

I went and got beers.

=///=​

The first steaks were coming off the barbecue; Gladys and I had cold drinks in hand, sitting at one of the folding tables. "This is a nice party," she noted. People were still arriving; I saw Taylor and Amy, now dressed for the party, greeting a boy of about their age. He looked somehow familiar.

"It is," I agreed. "That kid go to Winslow, do you know?"

"I don't know him," she admitted, after looking in that direction for a moment. "Where did Glory Girl get to?"

"I think she said something about getting changed and making sure her dad wasn't late. Whoops, incoming."

Taylor and Amy arrived at our table all in a rush, dragging the boy with them. "Mike, I want you to meet Chris," Taylor said all in a rush. "He goes to Arcadia too. Amy invited him." I read the subtext pretty plainly. I want you to tell me he's a good guy.

"Hello, Chris," I greeted him, extending my hand.

"Hello, sir," he replied politely, shaking it firmly. "Taylor's told me a lot about you."

About halfway through his words, it clicked for me; something about the way he looked at me, the recognition in his eyes. We've met before. I know you. Amy's memory mods did the rest; I tried hard not to smile too broadly. "Well, I'm glad that Taylor's making friends," I said blandly. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Chris."

Taylor caught my eye; I nodded very slightly. The tension went out of her shoulders and she smiled. Behind her, I saw the amusement in Amy's eyes; as Chris turned away, I raised an eyebrow. She smirked, then moved away with Taylor and Chris.

I took a drink, then chuckled. "Oh god, that's gonna be interesting."

"All right, spill," Gladys told me sternly. "What's so funny?"

"Okay, don't tell anyone," I said in an undertone, "but that kid is one of the Wards. Taylor knows him as a Ward and as a kid at school, but she doesn't know they're one and the same. Amy does, and she's seeing how long it takes Taylor to twig. And Chris too, for that matter."

She muffled a snort of laughter. "Goodness me. And I thought teen high school drama couldn't be improved upon. Now it's teen high school drama with secret identities."

I grinned. "Now there's an idea for a TV show."

"I'd watch it," she agreed with a matching smile.

We touched our drinks together and drank to that.

=///=​

Mark

Vicky, wearing her best party dress, fidgeted in the passenger seat. "Come on, Dad. We're gonna be late."

Mark Dallon raised a mild eyebrow. "You do realise that you could have flown there."

She huffed a sigh of exasperation. "Not wearing a skirt, Dad. You're the one who drummed that into me."

"I meant," he said patiently, "you could have flown there carrying your dress and changed once you got there."

"But then you might have forgotten," she pointed out. "Without me to remind you and all."

"I am a little curious as to why I was even invited," he replied. "It's not as though I know the girl, or her parents."

"Her father," Vicky corrected him. "Her mom died in a car accident a few years ago, remember?"

"Ah, right. Sorry. Well, okay, I don't know Taylor or her father. Why was I invited?"

"Because Ames wanted you there," Vicky explained. "I miss her a lot. Don't you?"

"Yes," he agreed. "The house is different with her gone." He sighed. "Well, I suppose it will be a chance to see how she's doing with the Heberts. You say she seems happier?"

"Yeah, and that's the weird bit. Before she moved in with these guys, she barely knew them. I hadn't even met them. But now she's spending more time with Taylor than with me. And she's helping out the Wards and this new cape, Weaver, as well. It's like she's a different person."

He turned a perceptive eye on her. "You think there might be something wrong?"

"I don't know." Her tone was pure frustration. "If I knew for a fact that there was something wrong, I'd punch it till it stopped being a problem. But this … I guess Ames has had her issues, but now it seems she's running away from them instead of facing them."

"She can't punch them till they go away," he pointed out gently. "You said she's getting therapy?"

"Yeah, and that's another thing," she said. "Who gets therapy? Amy's a superhero. She's been doing this for years. She isn't loopy."

"Maybe it's because she's been doing this for years that she needs a breather," Mark suggested.

"Why should she?" she asked blankly. "I don't."

"The difference between you two is that you always looked forward to being a superhero," he noted. "I'm not so sure that she did."

"Of course she did," scoffed Vicky. "Who wouldn't?"

"But have you actually asked her?"

Vicky looked thoughtful. "Well, no. I never thought I'd have to. It's kind of self-evident."

"To you, maybe." He looked up at the street sign as they passed by. "Which way now?"

"Oh yeah, down that street." Vicky pointed. "It's a few blocks down, but you can't miss the house. I've been helping decorate."

"Thanks, honey." He followed her directions. "But yeah, maybe you should ask Amy if she's really happy as a superhero."

"I don't see why she shouldn't be," Vicky mused. "Having powers is the greatest thing ever. But sure, if I get the chance, I'll ask. And I'll find out how long she's gonna be living away from home, too. I miss my sister."

"Me too, Vicky," he replied. "Me too."

Neither of them brought up the point that Carol had not been invited; when the subject of the party had come up, she had cited case work to get completed before a particular deadline. Whether or not this was true was immaterial, given that it defused a potentially awkward situation. Carol, of all of them, had had the least problem with Amy's absence. Mark figured he knew why, but it was more politic to not mention it either way.

"So will there be any other capes there?" he asked, just to break the silence.

"Oh, just me and Ames, as far as I know," she replied. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

=///=​

Amy

"So what do your folks do, Chris?"

Chris sipped at his drink before answering Taylor's question. "Oh, uh, nothing special. He works in the city, and she's a stay-at-home mom." He paused before asking his own question. "Your dad's in the Dockworkers, right?"

Amy had to work to conceal her grin. She knew Chris from the Wards, of course, and the fact that he had befriended Taylor in his civilian identity was too good an opportunity to pass up. They had associated with each other in and out of costume, but this was the first social gathering that they had attended together.

"Yeah," Taylor said, taking a drink of Coke. "He's head of hiring, which is why he isn't as brawny as the rest of them." She stole a glance at Chris, as if trying to work something out. Probably almost recognises him, but can't figure out from where, Amy decided, her inner amusement rising. "So where do you know Amy from?"

"Hah, actually, I was going to ask you the same question," Chris chuckled. "I've been in a few of her classes at school over the last couple of years. I think I even knew her in middle school, but she wasn't a superhero then."

"And I appreciate the fact that you've always treated me the same, no matter what," Amy put in. It was true; whether as Chris or Kid Win, he had always been polite. A little distant at times, but that was a Tinker thing rather than anything to do with her. When he had designs putting themselves together in his head, socialising became far less important.

"Well, I think I remember pulling your hair once upon a time," said Chris with a grin. "It was quite a while ago, but I'm pretty sure it was you."

"I don't remember that," Amy replied. "What did I do?"

"Oh, you didn't do anything. Vicky dumped her drink over my head then pushed me over," Chris recalled. "I didn't mess with either of you after that."

Taylor laughed. "Yeah, Vicky does come across as a bit protective, doesn't she?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "Always. I'm glad she's okay with me staying with you guys."

"Yeah, how did that happen, anyway?" asked Chris. Amy saw Taylor's expression twitch just slightly. Thought you'd steered the conversation away from that little awkward detail, didn't you?

"Oh, uh, it wasn't our idea," Taylor said. "You know Mike? Yeah, he set it all up. Something to do with giving Amy a normal grounding to recharge her batteries, away from the cape hustle and bustle. Or something like that."

Amy was impressed. Either she made that up on the spur of the moment or she remembered something Mike did say. And it sounds like him. "Yeah, something like that," she agreed. "I needed to have a friend who didn't see me as 'ooh, Panacea!' instead of, you know, me. And Taylor …" She trailed off, not sure how to say it.

"And Taylor needed a friend who was actually a friend," Taylor finished for her. "Someone who wouldn't find out all my secrets then turn around and backstab me with them. And that's you." She grinned at Amy, who found herself grinning back. "It's so awesome having someone who can -" She paused, and Amy would have bet everything she had that Taylor was editing her words on the fly, "- understand what it's like to be a teenage girl, who I can talk to. Doing homework together. You know, just hanging out."

"So wait, you didn't have any friends?" asked Chris. "Not even, you know, casual acquaintances?"

Taylor's eyes were bleak. "Not a one. Given that it was my ex-best friend leading the pack, anyone who made any overtures toward me were warned off or more likely in on it, ready to turn on me when it would hurt the most. So I couldn't trust anyone. Not even the teachers."

"The teachers." Chris shook his head. "I don't get it."

"Trust me, you still won't, even after she explains it," Amy told him. "She's told me and it's just horrific."

"So what happened?" His expression was a mix between curiosity and disbelief. "With the teachers, I mean. Did they bully you too?"

"Not as such," Taylor admitted. "But they did the next best thing. Emma was popular. She took part in school events. Teachers tended to give her the benefit of the doubt. With her and the whole popular crowd on her side, and me on my own on the other, it wasn't hard to paint me as the weird loner loser who was probably at fault any time anything went down."

"And you couldn't go to the principal?"

"I tried, at least the first few times," Taylor said. "But nothing happened. A few slaps on the wrist, and they were back to it. After a while, I gave up. Gave up complaining. Gave up reacting. So they worked harder at it, to get a rise out of me."

"Jesus." Chris shook his head. "I didn't know it was that bad."

"Trust me." Taylor put her hand on his arm. "When you said hi to me in the classroom on that first day, you made my day. Just by being friendly. That's how different it was."

"Wow." Chris looked from Taylor to Amy and back. "Well, I'm glad I helped. And I'm glad you invited me to the party. Whichever one of you had the idea to do it."

"Yeah, that was my idea," Amy told him. "Because Taylor's got no idea who to invite to a thing like this. And to be honest, I'm not great at it either, but Vicky's given me a few pointers over the years, so yeah. I didn't figure you'd ruin the party, so here you are."

"Wow, yeah, thanks." Chris shook his head again. "That's a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one."

"Well, it's the same criteria that I used to invite Vicky," Amy explained. "Also Lance, Bridget and Ken."

"What, that they kind of knew me and you didn't think they'd cause problems?" asked Taylor, looking around at where several of her classmates were at the barbecue, getting steaks.

Amy shrugged. "Basically, yeah. And they haven't yet, right?"

"Well, no," agreed Taylor. "I think they're enjoying themselves. I hope so, anyway. This is the first time I've had a party with guests my own age in forever."

"Well, it seems to be going okay so far." Amy turned to Chris. "So, I notice you didn't bring along a plus one, like Lance and Ken did. I'm guessing you don't have a girlfriend?"

Chris opened his mouth and paused, then looked from Amy to Taylor. "Uh, is this one of those questions where I'm going to regret it whichever way I answer?"

"Now why would you think something like that?" asked Amy cheerfully.

"Because that's the way it always seems to turn out when girls start asking a guy whether he's got a girlfriend or not," Chris said frankly.

"Oh, look." Taylor's voice held just a tinge of relief as she looked past Amy. "Vicky's back, and she's brought her father. I'll just go introduce him to Dad."

Amy and Chris watched her go, then Chris looked back at Amy. "Isn't he your dad too?" he asked curiously.

"Nope," she replied definitively and just a little defensively. "I was adopted."

He frowned. "But … you've got powers too. I always thought …"

"So did most people," Amy conceded. "And I was okay with it for a long time. But that time's past."

"No, what I mean is, kids of capes are more likely to get powers," he explained. "You got your powers, just like Vicky did. But if you're adopted …"

"Oh, right, yeah," she said. "No, I'm still the kid of a cape. Just not Flashbang and Brandish."

He blinked. "Uh … what? Who?"

"Sorry," she told him, shaking her head slightly. "That's something I'm not going to be telling many people. Privacy reasons, you know?"

"Oh, okay, sorry." He looked abashed, and she took pity on him.

"No, it's okay," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "Just, well, privacy. It's not a huge secret that I'm adopted, but we don't spread it around."

"Okay, sure," he agreed. "Um, I gotta ask, why were you asking me if I had a girlfriend in front of Taylor? Are you trying to set me up with her?"

"Um, maybe?" she replied, feeling on the defensive again. "Look, you're a nice guy and I've known you for years. I like Taylor a lot, and I think she could do with more friends. And I'm pretty sure she's never had a boyfriend before and she likes you. And you like her too, right?"

He sighed with mild aggravation. "Amy, look. Seriously. I do like Taylor. I think she's great. And I think she's really good for you too. But just because I like her doesn't mean I like like her. And the same goes with her to me. I mean, it's okay if I'm just her guy friend, not her boyfriend, right? We'll still hang out?"

"Yeah, we can do that," Amy said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "I guess I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," he assured her. "I'm kind of flattered, really. But there's more than that. I mean, you know I'm a Tinker. We don't do well at social stuff. I've always got more designs in my head, especially since the Director suggested that I work with modular systems. And then there's the simple fact that I'm a cape. I don't think a relationship between a cape and a non-cape would really work out. Either I'd have to keep secrets from her, or I'd have to unmask to her, and what if the relationship goes sour after that?"

Amy went to open her mouth, to protest the last statement, then stopped herself. Taylor's a cape, and Chris is a cape, and they're both using that as a reason not to get into a relationship. Could the irony get any deeper?

"I, uh, yeah, you're right," she said at last. "Let's just drop the idea, okay?"

"Good thinking," he agreed with more relief than she really thought the situation warranted. "Want to get some punch?"

She nodded. "Punch is good."

=///=​

Danny

"Excuse me, Dad? Got a minute?"

Danny looked around from where he was sitting at a table, chatting with Gladys and Mike and Kurt. "Taylor? What's up?" And then he saw the man standing with her. "Oh, uh, hold on. I know you, don't I?" Belatedly, he stood up.

"Most everyone does," the man agreed, holding out his hand. "Mark Dallon. Pleased to meet you. Danny Hebert, right?"

"Yeah," Danny replied, shaking his hand. "You're Flashbang. Amy's father."

"That's me," Flashbang said. "But right now I'm just plain old Mark Dallon."

Danny grinned. "Well, plain old Mark Dallon, I'd like to introduce you to Kurt and Gladys and Mike."

Mark shook hands with all three; while Gladys and Kurt seemed particularly impressed at meeting such a well-known cape, Mike appeared to be more laid-back about it. "Is Brandish going to be here?" asked Kurt. "Lacey would love to meet her."

"Ah, no," Mark admitted. "She's busy. After all, our work is never done." He sniffed. "Those steaks smell delicious."

Danny tilted his head. "Come on, let's get some." He led the way over to the barbecue where the steaks were beginning to brown under Lacey's watchful eye. "Lacey, I'd like you to meet Mark Dallon."

She looked startled. "Oh my god, Flashbang?"

Mark grinned, a little self-consciously. "Yeah, that's me. But call me Mark."

"Oh, okay, sure." But she still looked a little fan-girlish as she glanced around. "Is Brandish -?"

"Sorry, no, she's busy," Mark said once more. "But I'll say hello to her for you if you want."

Danny had to grin as well as Lacey turned pink and nodded vigorously.

"I've got to ask you, do you get this all the time?" he queried as he put a steak on to a plate for Mark.

"Thanks," the cape replied as he applied ketchup with a liberal hand. "Yeah, occasionally. But it's also a reminder of why we set up New Wave the way we did."

Danny grabbed a plate for himself, with a steak and some coleslaw, then indicated a table. "How's that?"

"So that people can be reminded that capes are human too," Mark explained as he sat down. "Too often, they see us as unreachable, distant, inhuman. Giving capes a human face keeps us responsible and lets people see us as, well, people."

"Yeah, but there's also the reason why capes put on masks in the first place," Danny argued. "So that they could have a place they could go to as normal people, not as capes. So that villains wouldn't always be able to find them."

"There's the unwritten rules for that," Mark countered. "Anyone doing that sort of thing gets into all sorts of trouble."

"Amy's told me a bit about those," Danny said. "But she also told me that they aren't always followed. If someone thinks he can get away with breaking them, he will. And all it takes is one punk with a grievance. Right?"

Mark was silent for a moment. "Yeah," he admitted. "The system isn't perfect. But nor is everyone being masked up. That has its own abuses."

Danny had to agree; the situation with Sophia Hess, otherwise known as Shadow Stalker, came to mind. If her identity had been public, there would be no way she would have gotten away with her bullying for so long. "Point," he admitted. "But there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" asked Mark. "Do tell."

"It's about Amy," Danny began.

Mark's interest visibly sharpened. "What about her?"

"She's a great girl," Danny assured him. "Taylor and I get along really well with her. I've enjoyed having her here, and so has Taylor. They're getting to be good friends. Which I think they both needed."

Mark cut off a slice of steak and ate it. "It sounds all right so far," he ventured.

"Oh, it's great," Danny agreed. "There's just one thing." He took a deep breath. "She's started calling me 'Dad'."

=///=​

Mark

He blinked as the cold feeling entered his chest. She's my little girl. I raised her for years. Then he took a deep breath. "She has?"

Danny Hebert's face was all sympathy. "Yeah. And she's a good kid, she really is. Taylor likes her a lot too."

"You said that already," Mark observed, a little distantly. Where is this going? He thought he knew, but he wasn't certain.

Danny took another deep breath. "So we asked her if she wanted to be adopted into the family and she said yes, she would. And Taylor likes the idea too. We just need your okay on the matter before we start the process to make it official."

Oh god, Vicky's gonna be so upset. Mark frowned and shook his head slightly. "Just me? Wouldn't Carol need to be consulted as well?"

Danny looked a little embarrassed. "According to Amy, Carol would probably help fill out the paperwork. I've done some checking and since Amy's already sixteen, she only needs the one parent to give consent. To be honest, we don't really need either of you to say yes, but we all thought that you deserved this much. At least this much."

His sincerity was obvious, as was his discomfort. "Yeah, I do appreciate that," Mark said. "You don't think you're rushing a little with this?"

"No, not really," Danny replied. "We've been in the same household for weeks now. Months. We've had our arguments and disagreements. But we get along anyway. Amy's going running in the mornings and afternoons with Taylor, did you know?"

"I … no, I didn't," Mark admitted. "I thought she was looking a little fitter."

"According to Taylor, she's getting really good at it." Danny shrugged. "I feel better about the fact that they're going together. I always worried about Taylor out on her own."

"Huh." Mark nodded. "Well, okay. You want to adopt her, and she wants to be adopted. Yeah?"

"Yeah," agreed Danny. "She says she'll still keep in touch with you guys. One of the things she was worried about was upsetting you, but I guess you'll have to talk to her about that yourself."

"I was just about to say that," Mark said. "Before we go any farther on this, I do want to talk to her about this whole thing. Make sure it's what she really wants."

"Oh yeah, definitely," Danny agreed. "I think she's waiting for you over there with the others."

=///=​

Amy

"Your dad and my dad seem to be talking fairly seriously," Vicky noted. "What's that about, do you think?"

Taylor frowned, though Amy knew she was just faking it. "Not sure," she hedged. "Maybe checking to see if Amy's done her homework?"

"Oh, funny," Amy retorted, her light tone belying the size of the butterflies in her stomach. "More like if I'm doing all your homework for you or only part of it."

"Hah, riiight," Taylor snorted. "Or should we go over and ask Mrs Knott how my grades were in her Computers classes while I was still at Winslow?"

Amy was just mustering her reply when Chris nudged her. "He's coming over."

She turned and sure enough, Mark was walking in their direction. "'Scuse me, guys," she murmured and went to meet him.

"Hi," she said when she got close enough.

"Hi, Amy girl," he replied. "Missed you."

"Yeah, I miss you too," she sighed. "Thanks for coming."

He chuckled. "Well, Vicky was kind of insistent. But I'm glad I made it. Taylor seems nice, and so does her father."

"Oh, they're great," she enthused, then caught his expression. "I mean …"

"I know what you mean," he said. "Can we talk about something?"

She knew exactly what 'something' was, but she didn't let her expression change. "Sure. Let's go inside where it's quieter."

Turning, she gave a nod to Taylor, whose eyes betrayed her worry, and led the way into the house. Taylor won't use her bugs to spy on us. I hope. This was a conversation that she wanted to keep as private as possible.

The couch in the living room was occupied by Lance and his girlfriend, but after Mark cleared his throat meaningfully, they got up and left to find some other private space. Amy sat down and after a moment, Mark sat beside her.

A long, awkward pause followed. Amy could hear the chatter from outside, the music from the CD player set up on a folding table. Someone laughed at something, and she caught an errant waft of the smell of steak. Her stomach rumbled, but she silently told it to shut up.

"You're … uh, you're happy here?" he asked at last.

"Oh god yes," she blurted. "Da- uh, Mr Hebert's really nice, and Taylor's just cool. We do homework together."

"You and Vicky used to do your homework together too," he observed mildly.

"Yeah, we did," she agreed. Until I started feeling the way I did about her, and made excuses so we weren't sitting so close all the time.

"Danny told me something interesting," he forged on. "He said that you want to make this arrangement permanent. That you want to be adopted."

There was no censure in his voice, but the urgency of his need to understand shone through like a beacon. He didn't say any more, but the unspoken word Why? was plain to hear.

"It's not about you," Amy tried to explain. "And it's not about Vicky. Well, mostly not about Vicky." She stopped.

"Your mother," Mark filled in.

"Carol, yeah," Amy agreed.

"She raised you," he corrected her, his voice a little harder than before.

"She tolerated me," she said flatly. "You know it and I know it. You did your best, and I appreciate it, I really do. Vicky is … well, Vicky. But there's … issues. Pressures. Things that make it so that I'm really better off out of the house."

"What issues?" His tone was curious. "And you said 'mostly not' Vicky. Which means she's a little bit of a problem. How? I thought you two were really close."

"We are," Amy told him reluctantly. "But she's one of the reasons that I've been going to therapy."

"Ah yes, the therapy," he said. "Mrs Yamada's been in contact with us, to ask if we can come in and sit in on a session or two. But things have been so hectic."

She caught the tone of voice and nodded. "And Carol really isn't thrilled about the idea, yeah?" He didn't answer, and she nodded again. "You know, you can just come in with Vicky. Mrs Yamada's really understanding."

"I … maybe," he said reluctantly. "So, what's this about Vicky?"

"It's something that I need to speak to her about first," Amy said, realising, not for the first time, that she was going to have to speak to Vicky about her feelings. She wasn't looking forward to it, not in the slightest. "If she wants to tell you about it after, that's up to her."

Mark nodded. "Okay then," he agreed. "So, you're sure that you want Danny Hebert to adopt you?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah," she told him. "I mean, you'll always be special to me, and you and Vicky can come over any time, but … I feel more at home here, you know? There's no pressure on me to be something I don't want to be."

"There's pressure on you at home?" he asked, startled.

He looked so confused that she took pity on him. "Mark … Dad … I'm sorry, but there is. There, I'm Panacea first and Amy second. Here, I'm Amy first and Panacea second. They accept me for who I am instead of what I am. And it's been very carefully explained to me that I don't have to heal people if I don't want to."

"But you're a superhero," he objected. "It's what we do."

"It's what you do," she said. "Since I moved in here, this huge weight has been gradually lifting off my shoulders, and I never knew how heavy it was till it started going away. And I don't want it back. And Taylor and Da- uh, Mr Hebert are happy to let me be who I want. So I want to stay."

Slowly, he nodded. "I can see that." He looked around the living room. "It's not a very big house, is it?"

"I don't care," Amy told him. "I like it here. I take my turn with the chores and Taylor's teaching me how to cook. We get along."

"Yes, I can see that." His sigh was just a little sad. "Well, it looks like your mind's made up."

"It is. Really." She put her arms around him. "I'm sorry. You've been as good a dad as you could be. But I'm happy here. Really I am."

"Well, I'll miss you, Amy girl." He hugged her in return. "Well, I guess I'll go and talk to Danny then. Give him the good news."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thanks."

"I just want you to be happy." He kissed her on the forehead. "Though I understand that you've already been calling Danny 'dad' on occasion. Jumping the gun a little, hmm?"

She turned a little pink, though his tone was more mischievous than anything else. "I, uh, yeah. But you'll always be my dad, too. You've earned it."

"Thank you, Amy girl. That means a lot to me."

They had gotten up from the couch and were heading back out to the party before the reality hit Amy. Mark said yes! They can adopt me! She felt as though she were walking on air. I've got to tell Taylor!

=///=​

Mike

"See that?"

"See what?" asked Gladys, looking around.

I nodded toward where Mark was walking toward the group of kids. "Danny and Mark just had a fairly intense discussion about something. And now Mark's going to talk to either Vicky or Amy … Amy it is, then. They're going into the house."

"So he wants to talk to his daughter. The one who's been living away from home." Gladys' voice was matter-of-fact. "Wouldn't you?"

"If that's all there was to it, sure," I agreed. "But I'd bet that there's more. Look at Taylor. She looks like a cat on hot bricks."

Maybe I was exaggerating just a little, but not overly much. Taylor was fidgeting just a bit, glancing occasionally at the back door of the house.

"Whatever they're talking about involves her," Gladys concluded. "But is it really any of our business?"

"Kinda," I hedged. "Whatever it is, it's not something that I know about. Which makes it of interest. Not just because I'm a nosy bastard, but, well, it's interesting to see stuff diverge from the way it was supposed to go."

"So they weren't friends originally?" Gladys' voice was intrigued.

"Hah, god no. They were first going to meet when Taylor holds a knife to Amy's throat during a bank robbery."

Gladys gasped. "She what?"

"Well, this is after Amy clocks Taylor with a fire extinguisher," I admitted. "Things get a little out of hand. But that never happened this time around, and they've got the chance to become friends."

"Because of you," she murmured, giving me a fond glance.

"Well." I drawled out the word, pretending fake modesty. "Maybe just a little."

She snorted, seeing right through me. "Indeed. Well, I'm going to get another one of those excellent steaks. Would you like one as well?"

"Um, I might just go see if Taylor's willing to tell me what's going on," I decided. "Because not knowing is driving me nuts."

She chuckled as we got up. "I suppose. You arrived here knowing everything, and now you know very little about what's going to happen next. It must be a strange experience for you."

"One way to put it," I agreed, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "I won't say no to that steak, either."

"Only if you agree to tell me what's going on," she said. I blinked; she grinned. "What, I'm not allowed to be curious too?"

"Okay, done," I told her. "You'll be the second to know."

She moved off toward where Kurt stood with Lacey at the barbecue. I made my way over to where Taylor was chatting with Vicky and Chris and a couple of kids I didn't know.

"Hi, Mike," Taylor greeted me as I came up to them. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yup," I said. "How about you? I mean, this is your day, right?"

"Oh, it's great." Her voice was reasonably enthusiastic, but there was that edge of uncertainty to it. Meanwhile, her eyes wandered toward the back door again.

"Something the matter?" I asked, drawing on the right of a surrogate uncle to be as nosy as I liked.

That got me a startled glance. "I, uh, Amy's just talking with Mr Dallon."

"Well, yes," I told her. "I know that. I just don't know why you're so jumpy about it."

"Actually, you are being kind of weird about it," Vicky said thoughtfully. "What's going on?"

Taylor opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say went by the board when Amy appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her in a ferocious hug. Caught by surprise, Taylor was spun around a couple of times while Amy babbled something over and over. Eventually, I figured it out as 'he said yes'.

"What?" blurted Taylor. "He did? He said yes?"

Amy let her go and nodded vigorously, and then it was Taylor's turn to hug her friend and spin her around.

This display of emotion had drawn the eye of nearly everyone at the party. I cleared my throat, causing Taylor and Amy to turn and look at me.

"Okay, something's obviously got you both all worked up," I noted with some amusement. "Would it be possible to share it with the rest of us? Because I, for one, am kinda curious."

They both started talking at the same time, then stopped and burst out laughing. Taylor turned to Amy. "Go ahead, you tell him."

Amy shook her head. "Nuh uh. You can tell him."

"Ahem," I stated firmly. "Amy. You tell me."

She was almost vibrating with excitement; I held up a hand. "Take a deep breath," I advised her. "Then tell me."

After doing as she was told, she blurted out, "I'm getting adopted!"

I blinked. "What."

It was Taylor's turn. "Dad and me are adopting Amy. She's gonna live with us for good!"

As the chatter sprang up between the other partygoers, I scratched my beard. "Wow. That's a new one on me."

"Isn't it great?" Amy said, her face glowing. "I love Taylor to bits, and now she's gonna be my sister!"

"Umm …" I let the sound draw out for a moment.

Amy and Taylor both looked at me. "What?" asked Taylor. "What's wrong?"

For an answer, I let my gaze drift over to where Vicky stood, looking as though she'd been slapped across the face with a medium-sized trout. "You didn't fill her in first, did you?"

Amy's face fell. "Uh, we wanted to …" she began, then trailed off.

"Keep it a secret till you knew for sure?" I asked gently.

Taylor nodded. "Yeah. We didn't want anyone to get all excited over nothing."

"Hm." I nodded toward Vicky. "Amy, maybe you'd better go and talk to her. Explain matters."

"Um, yeah, maybe I should," she agreed reluctantly. "Uh, Vicky?"

At the mention of her name, Vicky's attention focused. "Ames, what -" she began, before I raised a finger. "What?" she demanded.

"Maybe this should be a private conversation," I suggested, nodding toward the house. "There's stuff that needs to be said that only you two need to hear."

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "Come on, Vicky. Let's go inside."

She led the way into the house. Vicky followed. The door shut behind them.

Chris turned to Taylor. "Well, that was different," he admitted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," she replied. "I hope they can work out whatever it is."

"Me too," I said.

She turned to me. "Will it be okay?"

I spread my hands. "You're asking me?"

"Well …" she began, her eyes pleading with me to understand.

I sighed. "Okay. It's a big change. There'll be difficulties. But you two are good friends, and you've learned to live with each other. You've got as good a chance as any at making it work as a family." I shrugged. "I can't give you anything better."

"It's okay. I understand." She pulled me forward and kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks for everything you've done. For making this possible."

"Hey, I just showed up at the right time and place, and did what needed to be done," I reminded her. "Everything since then has been all you." I nodded at the two of them. "I'm gonna leave you guys to it. Just remember, you've got more in common than you think you do."

Leaving them looking a little puzzled at that last comment, I turned and headed back to Gladys. "Found out what was going on," I announced cheerfully.

She rolled her eyes. "So did everyone else. I'm pretty sure that doesn't count."

"I didn't say I was the only one who would find out," I pointed out. "Steak?"

"I got you a steak anyway," she sighed. "You knew I would."

"Yeah, but it's fun."

She wrinkled her nose at me; I grinned back.

=///=​

Amy

Vicky refused to sit on the couch, but instead chose to pace up and down. "What the fuck, Ames? Seriously? I thought I was your sister!"

"You still are," Amy argued. "Come on, sit down. You're just working yourself up."

"And why shouldn't I?" Vicky stamped her foot; the floorboards boomed. Dust drifted down from the ceiling. "My sister, the best friend I've ever had, is running away from me, from her family, from everything she knows, to live with strangers!"

"Vicky, what? No!" Amy raised her voice, which had the desired effect; Vicky turned to look at her. "In the first place, I'm not running away. I'm moving away. And you can still come visit. I'd love to see you."

"Oh, so now you're giving me permission to visit my own sister." Vicky's voice was heavy on the sarcasm. "That's big of you."

Amy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, drawing on the calming exercises that Mrs Yamada had taught her. "It's not like that, Vicky, and you know it," she stated. "I had to move away. There were reasons. And now … well, now, I'm feeling more comfortable here than I ever did at home, and I want to stay. Where I'm comfortable."

"What? Why? How are you not comfortable at home?" Now Vicky was confused, but at least she wasn't shaking the house. "You've got everything you want there."

"No. I don't." This was harder than Amy had ever expected it to be, and she'd known all along that it wasn't going to be easy.

"Yes, you do," protested Vicky. "You've got me, and Mom and Dad, and your own room, and clothes, and food, and -"

"No. Vicky. No. Stop." Amy felt the waves of emotion pouring off of Vicky, felt her own heart rate speeding up. I don't want this argument. "Please. Just listen to me."

Something in the tone of her voice must have gotten through to Vicky, because she paused and looked at Amy curiously. "What? What's so bad about home?"

"There's no one thing that's bad, but there's a lot of things that are all adding up to a huge amount of pressure. Pressure I didn't even realise I was under until Mike pointed it out to me. And now that I'm here, the pressure isn't on me any more."

"God dammit," spat Vicky. "That man again. Ever since he showed up, everything's been going weird. You leaving home, that meeting -"

"Vicky, stop. This isn't about Mike. It's about me. And you. And why I want to stay here."

"Okay, fine," Vicky said, attempting a voice of reason. "Give me these reasons. Show me why they're so bad." She stood there, folding her arms, almost tapping one toe, so much the image of her mother that Amy had to blink.

"Okay, for a start, there's Carol." First and worst.

"You mean Mom." Vicky's tone wasn't exactly receptive.

"I mean Carol. She's not my mom, she's never been my mom, and I've never been her daughter."

"Yes. You have."

"No. I haven't. She's never even hugged me."

Vicky blinked, apparently taken aback. "That can't be true."

"Yeah, it is. Mark hugs me. Carol doesn't trust me enough. Or, for that matter, like me."

"Why wouldn't she trust you?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "Because my dad's a supervillain, duh." When Mike had first confirmed it for her, and even had Mrs Yamada tell her who it was, she had taken it as a huge shock to the system. But intervening time, and intense discussion with the therapist, had brought it down to a simple fact. Marquis is my dad. Huh.

"You don't know that for certain." They had, of course, spent hours discussing who her real parents might be, and why she had been adopted by the Dallons. But for some reason they'd never touched on Marquis. Or at least, not that Amy recalled.

"Actually, yeah, I do. Once I knew it, Carol's behaviour made a lot of sense. She acts like I'm about to turn evil and be like my dad."

Vicky frowned, but she didn't voice a protest. "Okay, she's a little standoffish. But that can't be the only reason."

"No, it isn't." Amy looked up at Vicky, willing her to understand. "The whole powers thing. Being a superhero. You always wanted it. I didn't. But once I got powers there was all this pressure on me to use them for good. To be a superhero. To heal people. It got so that if I wasn't healing people I felt like I was a bad person. So I would walk to the hospital in the middle of the night."

Now Vicky looked startled. "I didn't know that!"

"Yeah, well, now you know why I was tired so often in class last semester." Amy grimaced. "It took therapy to really hammer it home to me that I didn't have to. I'm my own person. My powers are my own. I really don't have to use them if I don't want to. I don't have to be a superhero. I don't have to be Panacea if I don't want to be."

Vicky was looking at her as though Amy had just started declaiming in Urdu. "But … no. Seriously. You're Panacea. You are a superhero. How can you not want to be?"

"And there's the pressure, right there. The expectation. You can't see it any other way. Well, I can. And I choose to walk away."

Pacing up and down again, Vicky rubbed her forehead. "Okay, I think I kind of get it. But that still doesn't mean you have to move away from home. We can accept that you don't want to be Panacea for a bit. Time off while you get your head back in the game. And I'll talk to Mom. But you can still stay."

"That's not all of it," Amy told her. "There's more."

"More?" Vicky was looking confused again. "What else could there be?"

Amy took another deep breath; her heart was hammering again. "Before I tell you, could you please turn down your aura? I'm pretty sure they can feel it outside. I mean, it doesn't work on me, but they're all susceptible."

"Okay, sorry." Amy felt the emotional pressure subside. "It kind of got away from me for a bit there."

"I kind of noticed." Amy's tone was facetious, forcing a grin out of Vicky. "Okay. This last one is the hardest for me." She paused, mustering her courage. "I'm gay."

Vicky stared at her. "What? What's wrong with that? Gay is the new awesome. Legend's gay, and I'm pretty sure I know a few guys who would jump the fence to get in on some of that action if he showed interest in them." She paused, then Amy could almost hear the click behind her eyes. "Oh. Oh. Now I get it. It's Taylor, isn't it? You and her? No wonder you're so close. Well, that's okay."

She was well into Understanding Older Sister mode by now, and Amy almost let her go on with it. It would be so easy to let her think that, and not have to tell her the truth. But Mrs Yamada had been firm about this sort of thing. To truly heal, I have to face matters and see them through.

"No, it's not Taylor," Amy told her quietly. "She's a friend, a good friend, but that's all there is between us. It's not her."

Caught short, Vicky trailed off. "Um. Okay. Not Taylor. Then who? Bridget? Amanda? One of the teachers?" A pause. "Wait, it's Weaver, right? The bug controller. You were pretty tight with her during the gang war."

It had been amusing to watch Chris and Taylor dance around the secret-identity situation before; now, it wasn't so funny. "No. It's not Weaver."

"Then who?" The puzzlement in her voice was obvious. "And why would this make you leave home, anyway?"

Amy shook her head. It's amazing how we sometimes can't see what's right in front of us. "Vicky. It's you."

"What." Vicky's voice was flat.

"It's you." Amy tried to make her understand through sheer tone of voice. "I'm in love with you."

"What? No. No, you can't be. For one thing, you're my sister."

"Adopted sister," Amy reminded her. "And yeah, I am. Have been for some time now."

Vicky stared at her suspiciously. "How long?"

Amy bit her lip. "Since around about the time we got our powers?" Don't think too closely about that. Please don't.

"Wait. So every time I got out of the shower in front of you, every time I changed in front of you, you were checking me out?" Vicky was shaking her head now.

Okay, one awkward topic avoided, another broached. "Not every time, no," Amy said weakly. "But now you know. Why I really have to go. Because you're not interested in me, not like that. And you've got Dean. And Mike told me -"

"Mike told you what?" Vicky seized on that. "What else did he tell you?"

Amy clenched her fists to conceal their trembling. "He told me that if things didn't change, if the pressures on me kept getting worse, then things would go very badly between us. That I would do something horrible to you. Something that would make me volunteer to go into the Birdcage."

Vicky's horror was almost palpable. "But you wouldn't. That's not you, Ames. I know you."

You didn't know I was gay. "No, I wouldn't. Not this me. Not now. Because things have changed. But that me, the one who had been through so much bad stuff, who nowhere to go, nobody to turn to … I could snap under too much pressure. Anyone would. We're all human, after all. We make mistakes. If things hadn't changed, some time in the future I would have made a mistake that I would have regretted for the rest of my life. Several mistakes. And now I won't."

"But you can't know it would have happened!"

"Mike said -"

"Enough about Mike!" screamed Vicky. "This is about you and me!" The aura was back on at full strength, flooding out anger-fear-flee in waves strong enough to make Amy want to throw up. She grabbed Amy by the shoulders, shaking her. "We were a team! And now you're rejecting us! Rejecting everything! Rejecting me!"

Amy took hold of her wrists, but she may as well have been trying to make a vice release its grip; Vicky's hold was too strong. She felt the bones in her shoulders creaking. "Vicky, it's not like that. Please, calm down."

"You hate Dean, don't you?" demanded Vicky, not listening. "You've hated him since we started dating. Because you want me, and you can't have me."

Amy would have responded calmly, said something to defuse the situation, but the pain in her shoulders was becoming too great. So she did the only thing she could think of. It was a very small change, and she took as much care as she could under the circumstances.

The effect was immediate; Vicky let go and took a step back, staring at her. "What did you do?" she whispered. The waves of emotion had vanished, as if they had never been.

Amy released her wrists. "You were hurting me. I calmed you down. That's all."

Vicky shook her head. "No. You affected my brain. You always said -"

"That I don't do brains. That's right. But I've been taking therapy. And I've learned that under the right circumstances, it's not the wrong thing to do."

"And fucking with my brain is the right thing to do, ever?" Vicky's anger was flaring again. "Fuck's sake, Ames, I'm your fucking sister. You don't fuck with my brain. What if you decided to make me gay too, to make me want to sleep with you? What's to stop you from doing that?"

"That's what I -" Amy stopped.

"That's what you did?" Vicky went pale. "Oh fuck. Please tell me you're joking."

"No. No no no." Amy shook her head violently. "I didn't. But that's what I would have done, once upon a time, if I hadn't got therapy. Mike told me."

"No. This is too much." Vicky shook her head in turn. "You've changed, Ames. You're not the Amy I know."

"Yes. But it's a good change," Amy argued. "I'm more centred. More balanced. More in control of myself."

But Vicky's expression was adamant. "You fucked with my brain. You call Mom and Dad 'Carol' and 'Mark'. Like they never mattered anything to you, ever." She stabbed her finger toward the back yard. "You've dumped me as your sister and you're getting yourself adopted by a new family, with a new sister, because we're not good enough. You've left New Wave. You stopped healing people. I don't even know you any more."

"It's not like that." But the words sounded weak even to Amy. Too late, she realised that the calming effect she had pulled on Vicky had backfired.

It had been the simplest thing she could think of to do under the circumstances. Vicky's hypothalamus had been producing oxytocin, corticoliberin and vasopressin, causing her pituitary gland to respond with corticotropin and her adrenal cortex with corticosteroids. Amy had suppressed the production of the hormones and caused Vicky's body to break down the excess, thus cutting off the anger at the source, or so she thought.

But once she broke contact with Vicky, the suppression wore off, and Vicky still had reason to be angry. So everything had started up again, with a vengeance. Her body could even be overproducing the hormones to compensate for the shortfall. All of which added up to trouble.

"The fuck it's not." Vicky stormed toward the back door. "It's all his fault."

Oh shit.

=///=​

Gladys

When the terror overtook her, Gladys nearly dropped her cup. "Oh god," she whispered. "We've got to get away. Something's terribly wrong."

Mike took her arm, his eyes searching for the menace, as everyone swayed away from the house. He stood up; she could feel the tension in his body. "Everyone, it's okay!" he called out. "It's only Glory Girl's aura! You're not really feeling this! She's just making you think you are!"

"Amy's in there," quavered Gladys, not overly reassured by his words.

"Yeah." He let go her arm, giving her a pat on the forearm, then headed toward the house. It seemed to her that he was like a man walking into a strong wind, leaning against the outgoing current of anger and rage. He wasn't the only one; Flashbang was doing the same thing.

Then, abruptly, it stopped. She physically swayed in place as the emotional pressure dropped away. Mike was nearly at the back steps; now that she was thinking more clearly, she could see insects gathering from all around, almost swarming. Taylor's bringing them in.

She had barely enough time to take a deep breath of relief before the anger and fear flooded through her mind again; the back door slammed open and Vicky stood there.

"You!" The teenage superhero pointed at Mike. "You did this! You screwed with her head!"

"No. I didn't. I helped her." Gladys couldn't believe how calm Mike was being, how logical. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw up, to run away. Is this what it's like for bad guys who fight her?

"Vicky -" That was Flashbang.

"Bullshit!" Vicky launched herself at Mike. He didn't have a chance to evade; Gladys wasn't even sure if he tried. They both went flying across the yard. The table with the cake on it went over, and the remains of the cake with it. Gladys heard someone scream; it might have been her. They hit the ground and rolled over and over; when they came to a stop, he was flat on his back with her kneeling on top of him.

Glory Girl floated upward until her feet were six inches off the ground, pulling Mike up by his shirt front. Cocking her fist, she prepared to launch it into his face.

"No!" shouted Gladys. Vicky took not the slightest bit of notice.

The lawn exploded right at her feet, showering her with shreds of grass and bits of dirt. "Glory Girl! Stand down!"

She didn't lower her fist, but she did turn her head toward her father. "But he -"

"Did nothing. You're a guest at this party, and you attacked him." Flashbang's voice was firm, commanding. "Go and sit in the car, Vicky. We're going home, once I finish apologising to everyone here."

When she let go of Mike, he collapsed on to his knees, then fell on to his side. The glare she shot down at him was pure poison. "This isn't over."

"Vicky -"

"No, Dad. This is wrong. Can't you see?"

Mark Dallon opened his mouth to respond, but there was a whoosh of wind and suddenly Vicky was no longer there; a dwindling speck in the darkening sky was all that anyone could see of her.

"Dammit." Mark slumped a little. Gladys ignored him, rushing to Mike's side.

=///=​

Amy

Carefully making her way down the back steps, Amy headed for Mike. One of the men – Kurt, she thought his name was – asked "Jeez, is he all right?"

Taylor fell into step with her. "What happened in there? I thought you were just going to talk it out."

Amy drew a deep sigh. "I thought so too. But it got out of hand. I think she's got some issues of her own."

"Yeah, no crap." Taylor's laugh was shaky. She put her hand on Amy's shoulder, eliciting a wince. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Just bruising." Amy shook her head. "She doesn't know her own strength."

Mark shook his head. "Okay, now she's definitely gone over the line." He looked down at Mike. "Really far over the line."

"She just grabbed my shoulders." Amy moved her arms gingerly. "Nothing's broken. Just a bit painful. It's okay. I can deal with pain." She looked to where Gladys was kneeling beside Mike. "He's the one I'm worried about."

"Michael." Gladys' voice was urgent. "Can you hear me? Speak to me."

Amy was close enough now that she saw him crack his eyes open just a fraction. She knelt down on the other side, just in time to hear him whisper, "I'm fine, but play it up."

Amy felt a vast relief. I knew Riley's body mods were better than that.

Gladys turned to her. "Please, help him!"

"Let me see." Amy put on a businesslike tone. She put her hand on Mike's arm, where the sleeve had been torn away. He had not come away unscathed, but it was only a few minor fractures and a little internal bruising, whereas an unmodified human would have been hospitalised for weeks, if not months. "Broken ribs," she announced out loud. "Ruptured spleen. Damaged kidneys. Broken collarbone. Fractured spine." As she spoke, she healed the damage that he had actually taken. "Okay, all fixed." She looked up and raised her voice. "He'll be all right."

The sigh of relief spread through the party-goers, along with a few spontaneous claps.

"Thank you." The relief in Gladys' voice was not entirely feigned.

Amy smiled; this was the sort of gratitude that she had enjoyed back when she first got her powers, before people got used to her being able to heal anyone, any time, and began to expect it of her. "You're welcome."

Taylor helped Amy to her feet; Mike made a show of coming around, then stood up with Gladys' assistance. "Wow, thanks. Good as new." He raised his voice to reach everyone. "I'm fine now, thanks. But seriously, don't try that at home." That raised a little laughter.

Danny Hebert stepped up alongside Mark. "So what's going to happen?"

"With Vicky?" Mark grimaced. "She'll probably go someplace and stew about this for a while, then go home and vent to Carol. When I get home, we'll have a talk to her then ground her." He shot a glance at Mike. "Unless you want to have her charged. Which I would totally understand."

Mike seemed to be considering it. "That would screw over New Wave though, wouldn't it?"

Mark nodded resignedly. "It would. What with Amy leaving, if Vicky was arrested for assault and battery with parahuman powers, the press would have a field day. Our image would plummet. It might even lead to the team breaking up."

"You know, you haven't even asked Amy if she wants to have Vicky charged," Taylor observed. "She hurt Amy first."

Amy blinked, surprised. "I – but I didn't even think – she was angry," she began.

"Not a defence," Mike observed. "How bad is it?"

"Nothing's broken," she assured him. "I'll be bruised for a bit, that's all. She doesn't know her own strength."

"You said that before," Taylor pointed out. "And it's wrong. She should know her own strength."

"Also, her aura was on pretty strong out here," Mike said. "Fairly sure a case could be made for assault there, for everyone who felt it."

Mark's face was drawing into deeper and deeper lines. "You're not wrong. She's my daughter, but she's crossed the line in a big way."

"So what happens now?" asked Amy. "Will she be arrested?" What if she fights back?

"She should be," Gladys stated fiercely. "She hurt you. She hurt Michael. I don't care who she is. That's just wrong."

"I tend to agree," Mike decided. "She needs to learn that actions have consequences. Before it's too late." He turned to Mark. "If you can get her to turn herself in and not contest any of the charges, I won't make a big noise about it. But if it comes to an actual trial …"

The look of pain on Mark's face made Amy wince in sympathy. It would destroy everything that he's worked for over the last ten years.

"You're being a lot more reasonable than I would, under the circumstances," Danny told Mike. "But hey, it's your choice."

"Yeah well, that and there's the other stuff coming," Mike reminded him. "Don't want anyone getting sidetracked. This right here? Small potatoes."

"We still need rule of law," Gladys pointed out. "Without that, what's the point?"

Mark sighed. "What's the point, indeed. Okay. I'll try to get her to turn herself in. I'll let you know how it turns out." He turned to Taylor. "Sorry your party was ruined."

Taylor shrugged. "Not your fault. Heck, it probably would have been worse if you weren't here."

Amy thought that wasn't necessarily the most diplomatic thing to say; the grimace that crossed Mark's face confirmed it for her. But he nodded grudgingly. "True." A deep breath. "Amy girl."

"Dad." She decided to give it to him, this once.

"I'm sorry all this happened. I'm sorry you feel you had to get away from the situation. But given this … well, maybe it was for the best all along."

It was Amy's turn to grimace. "I'm thinking maybe if I hadn't left, or hadn't decided that I wanted to be adopted, this wouldn't have happened."

"No." Mike's voice was firm. "You don't ever put aside what's good for yourself for fear that someone else might get all butt-hurt over it. Vicky was a bomb waiting to go off. That's on her, not you."

Mrs Yamada said almost exactly the same thing to me. Minus the Vicky part, of course. Amy bit her lip. "But … she's my sister."

"Which doesn't make her any more right than you are," Gladys pointed out. "You deserve your own happiness. If Vicky can't see that, then she doesn't deserve to be your sister."

Amy gave her a wan smile. "You must be one hell of a teacher."

"Well, I think so," Taylor observed. "If everyone else at Winslow was like her, I never would have had to change schools."

Gladys didn't answer that one, but she looked pleased and turned a delicate shade of pink.

"Well, I should be going," Mark said. "I need to fill Carol in on what's happened here."

Danny nodded. "See you round. And don't forget, you're always welcome to come over."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Mark turned and walked toward the side gate; people stepped aside to let him pass.

=///=​

Mike

Kurt was the next one to approach us. "You sure you're all right there, man?" he asked me directly. "You took one hell of a hit there."

"I did," I acknowledged. "But Amy here's pretty damn good at what she does. Just one thing." I paused for a beat. "Don't ever take her for granted."

"Yeah, no," he agreed. He turned to Amy. "You got him back on his feet after a hit like that, you're all right in my book."

"Thanks," she said. I could tell from the way she said it that she was neither embarrassed nor conceited about it. Healing was something she chose to do; if other people saw it as something special, that was their choice.

I nodded to Kurt then turned to Amy. "Mind filling us in on what happened? I'd kinda like to know why I just got pile-driven through Taylor's birthday cake by your sister."

"Oh, no." She put her hand to her mouth. "Taylor, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's no big," Taylor assured her. "Though it was a very nice cake," she added, for Gladys' benefit.

"It really was," I agreed. "But cakes can be replaced. Back to the topic at hand. What happened?"

Amy glanced at Kurt; he got the message. "I'll, uh, I'll be over there," he said, pointing vaguely toward where Lacey was talking to Danny.

Amy watched him go, then turned to Taylor and me. "I thought I'd gotten past the hard part," she confessed. "I told her I was attracted to her, and she took it better than I expected. But then she kept pressing me to come back home and I had to tell her about what you told me. And she started going off about how she didn't know me any more and that I was rejecting her and the team. She started shaking me by the shoulders. So I … well, I couldn't get free, so I calmed her down. Turned off production of the hormones that cause anger."

"So you messed with her brain," I stated. My voice was neutral, not accusatory, but she still winced.

"Well, basically, yeah," she agreed. "But it was purely a temporary thing. As soon as I lost contact with her, the production started up again. Which might have been a bad thing, because when she asked me, I told her what I'd done."

I didn't quite facepalm, but I did close my eyes and put my fingertips to my forehead. "Oh, god."

"What?" asked Taylor. "What's so wrong with that?"

I gave Amy a raised-eyebrows look, coupled with a bright smile. "You recall what you told me awhile ago about how you had that epiphany about Vicky getting her powers because she was terrified of being mentally controlled?"

"Yeah, but what does that … oh. Oh." She did actually facepalm. "I did that, didn't I?"

"Well, from the sounds of it, you were kinda justified, but yeah." I shrugged. "Shit happens."

"Okay, so what should I have done differently?" She gave me a searching look. "You know more about everything than anyone I know. What would you have done with my powers?"

I scratched my chin. "Probably the same thing as you. You had a distinct lack of options. Either let her accidentally injure you or use your powers to pull her up. Now you could have doubled down and made it so she was okay with you doing that, but …"

The look on her face was pure revulsion. "I'd never do that."

"And so." I gave her a measured nod. "You acted with self-control and you didn't cause any permanent changes. I'd say you acquitted yourself pretty well there, kiddo."

"Except that she came after you," she fretted. "If you'd been normal, she might just have killed you."

"There is that," I agreed. "But let this be a lesson. Sometimes the best outcome of a situation is still a bad outcome. The trick is to see situations like that coming and not get trapped into them."

"And how do you do that?" asked Taylor curiously.

"Got me there," I admitted. "Figure that one out and you'll be ahead of about ninety-nine percent of the human race."

We were interrupted by a polite cough. Looking around, we saw Chris standing there.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Uh, Lance texted what happened to one of his buddies, whose dad saw it. So he contacted everyone else's parents, and now they're coming to pick us up."

"Aww," Taylor said, downcast. "You don't really have to go, you know."

"Yeah, well, Lance is kicking himself," Chris agreed. "This party just got interesting. But when the parental units get into the act, we gotta do what we gotta do."

"Yeah, there is that," I commiserated. "Having a cape battle on the premises does kinda put a new spin on things."

He nodded. "Well, I just wanted to say it's nothing personal. It was a totally rocking party, and I wanted to thank you and Amy for inviting me."

"Well, it was more Amy than me, but I'm glad you were able to show," she replied. "Thanks for, well, being here for the party. What we had of it, anyway."

I nodded. "Actually, Chris," I said, "could I have a word before you go, please?"

Taylor looked at me oddly; I gave her my best innocent look. I was pretty sure she could see through it, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. Amy seemed to have an inkling of what I was on about, but of course she couldn't say anything in front of Taylor.

"Uh, sure," he agreed, sounding slightly puzzled. "What's the matter?" We took a few steps away from the girls and he turned to me. "If this is about Taylor, sir -"

I shook my head, lowering my voice. "Nope. Taylor can take care of herself. This is about you."

"Me?" He looked somewhat startled. "What about me?"

He got a very dry look for that. "You can drop the act. I know who you are. You know I know who you are."

He blinked a few times. "What? Uh, how do you know? What gave me away?"

"Well, apart from Amy just about bursting at the seams waiting to see if Taylor figured it out?" I shrugged. "You forget who I am and where I'm from."

"Right, right," he began, then stared at me. "Wait, what? I could see Amy was acting a little weird, but I figured it was because she wanted the party to go well."

Whoops. "Uh …"

"So why would Taylor figure it out, and why would Amy want her to?" His voice was suspicious now.

I had to put a stop to this, or at least a temporary hold. "Okay, time out. This is not why I pulled you aside. There's a more important matter at hand here."

He paused. " … okay." But I could tell that he wasn't going to let it go. Me and my big mouth.

"Okay. Just as soon as you get away from here, you're gonna be writing up a report of what happened here for the Director, yeah?"

A nod. "Yeah. She's gonna want to know all the details."

"Figured." I chose my next words carefully. "I need you to slow that report down."

He looked confused. "What?"

I patted the air in a downward motion. "Slow it down. Don't get it to her as fast as you otherwise might. Don't not do it, but, well, sit on it for a bit. Polish it up. Give it a few hours before you forward it on to her. You get me?"

"Okay, I get what you're saying," he said, "but … why?"

"Because she was kind of provoked," I explained. "She had a reason, sort of, for what she did. Not a great reason, but a reason. Anger issues plus, well, what happened in the house. If you could put that in the report too, that would be great. But what I want is to give her a chance to calm down and turn herself in before the Protectorate and Wards are mobilised to bring her in by force."

He was a smart kid; by the time I finished, he was nodding. "Yeah, I see that," he said. "If they have to actually go out and arrest her, it'll go a lot worse for her."

"Exactly and precisely," I agreed.

"But why are you even asking me this?" he asked. "I mean, she's my friend, and I like her and all, but you barely know her. She tried to kill you just before, and you're still willing to give her this chance?"

"Well, just between you and me, I'm a bit tougher than that," I confided. "I kind of played it up for the crowd. But even if it hadn't been for show, I'd still want to give her the chance. One screwup shouldn't mean curtains."

"Wow, sure, okay," he said. "I can do that. I can't hold it off forever, but I can give her a little bit of time."

"Good man," I told him. "I appreciate it."

"Not a problem." He looked searchingly at me. "So what was that about Taylor, anyway?"

Crap. "Uh, maybe you should talk to her and Amy about it, tomorrow at school." I was being a craven coward and I knew it. But there was no way I was going to out Taylor without her knowledge. Which meant that I'd have to tell her that I'd half-spilled the beans to Chris already. And that was another conversation I wasn't looking forward to, at all.

"Okay." He still didn't look satisfied, but thankfully didn't press the issue. I watched him turn and walk away.

"So what was that all about?" asked Taylor, from beside me. "You seriously weren't warning him to keep his hands to himself around me, right?"

"Heh, no." I grinned. "You're well able to take care of yourself in that regard. And in any case, that'd be your dad's job, not mine."

"Okay, so what was it about?" She tilted her head slightly. "Because you've always got a reason for the things you do, no matter how weird they are."

"Yeah. I do. In this case, I was asking him for a favour."

I didn't think that would shut her up, and I was right. "He's just a kid from my school. What do you want from him?" She blinked. "Or is he someone special?"

I glanced around; Amy was standing right there, but nobody else was in earshot. I gave Amy a mock glare. "This is your fault. Suppose you explain to her why you've been grinning like a loon since Chris got here."

"Oh, that's easy," Taylor put in. "She wanted him to ask me on a date or something. I figured that one out pretty quickly."

I didn't answer her directly; instead, I gave Amy a meaningful look and cleared my throat.

"Okay, fine," the biokinetic huffed. "I wanted you to figure out who he was."

"Chris?" Taylor looked puzzled. "Okay, I give up. Who is he?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "Kid Win, you doofus."

Taylor looked startled. "You're kidding."

"No, she's not," I said. "And because she was playing that up, I kind of let slip to him that Amy wanted you to guess. Which almost kind of outs you. And he's likely to be asking you two tomorrow what the heck's going on. So it's up to you to either give him the runaround or unmask. Your choice."

"Wait, he's a cape?" Taylor seemed to be stuck on that point.

"Yeah, and I kinda can't believe you didn't guess," Amy chuckled. "You've worked with him."

"Yeah, but I don't look for peoples' secret identities," Taylor reminded her. "Okay, so he knows that something's up, but he doesn't know what."

"Yeah." I nodded. "Up to you to tell him. He's a good kid, and he's already used to keeping everyone else's identities. It would be safe with him. It's just up to you as to whether you're comfortable with the idea."

Taylor nodded back. "Right. Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

"You know, you could be a little peeved at me for doing that," I pointed out.

"Okay, fine," she said cheerfully. "Every fly and every bug from here on in that bothers you? It's special delivery from me."

I grinned at her. "Now that's more like it." Lifting my fist, I offered it; she bumped it, returning the grin.

"Wow, so much for the party," Amy observed. I looked around; Danny was shaking hands with Kurt as the Dockworker left with his wife. Apart from Taylor's father, Gladys and I were the only adults still there.

"So will you be going too?" asked Taylor.

"Not quite yet," I said. "There's still the presents to unwrap."

She made a face. "Not sure if I'm up to it. The party did sort of crash to a halt."

"Hey." I waited till she was looking at me. "Trust me, at least one of these presents you're gonna want to see."

Amy nudged her. "Come on."

Taylor stuck out her tongue at me. "Okay, fine. You bullied me into it."

Amy stuck out her fist; I bumped it.

=///=​

Taylor

"So I've got to ask," Taylor commented, as she took her seat at the table. The pile of presents in the middle wasn't huge, but it was larger than it had been for years. "What would my birthday have been like in the other world?"

Mike snorted. "What birthday? On this day, you were fully engaged with chasing the Slaughterhouse Nine out of Brockton Bay." He nodded to Danny. "You were in the hospital, given that Shatterbird had sung her song and you'd been injured as a result."

"And me?" asked Amy.

Mike grimaced. "Let's just say that you were in a pretty bad place, and getting worse all the time."

Taylor looked at the expression on her best friend's face, and impulsively hugged her. "But you're not, because you're here," she pointed out.

"Should I ask where I was?" asked Gladys.

Mike shrugged. "You were safe. I don't recall you being injured at that point."

"Okay, enough what-ifs," her father said. "There are presents to be opened, and the birthday girl is talking about stuff that's never going to happen."

"Okay, fine," Taylor retorted. "I was just enjoying the sight of the pile. Okay, what's this one?" She grabbed a kind of floppy square one; it had Gladys' name on it. The paper tore free, and she unfolded a T-shirt with a screen-print of a strange spider-like symbol on it.

"Hah!" Mike chuckled. "Nice one."

"Thank you," Gladys murmured, looking pleased with herself. "It took me some time to locate it, let me tell you."

"Spiderman," Danny explained, as Taylor tried to puzzle it out. "A comic book hero that kind of went out of style when we got real ones."

"Well, I love it," Taylor declared, holding it up against herself. "What do you think, Amy?"

Amy smirked. "It's very you."

"Now I don't know if you're being serious." Taylor narrowed her eyes for a second, then grinned. "Oh, who cares. It's a cool shirt. I'm gonna wear it to school tomorrow. See if Chris guesses anyway."

More presents were unwrapped. Chris and a couple of the others had given her books; it appeared that they had been paying attention when she talked about books. They were ones she hadn't read, in the genres she liked. I'm definitely going to have to thank them tomorrow.

A small present, marked with just the letter 'A', turned out to be a delicately worked golden orb spider on a chain. This earned Amy a hug that made her squeak with protest. Taylor insisted that her best friend put it on her immediately; it did actually set her dress off rather well.

Her father had gotten her a brand new mobile phone, which she took out of the case and examined closely. "Wow, Dad," she exclaimed. "How much did this set you back by?"

"Don't ask," he advised her. "Just use it wisely."

"He says to the teenage girl," Mike pointed out dryly, earning him a poked-out tongue from Taylor. From the movement of Amy's leg, she kicked him in the shin at the same time.

"Wow," Mike observed. "I think I just felt one of your mosquitoes brush my ankle, Taylor. Tell it to come back, it might get me this time." This time, Amy poked her tongue out as well, while Danny and Gladys both chuckled.

"Still one left," Danny pointed out helpfully, indicating the postage tube.

"Yeah, I know." Taylor had been trying to figure that one out since she sat down. It was from Mike; she knew that much. What she didn't know was what was in it.

Finally, she let her fingers grab it and tear off the outer wrapping. Holding it up, causing Mike to duck, not entirely by accident – payback's a bitch – she felt something sliding down the length of it. When she worked the end off of it, the object slid out and dropped into her hand, revealing itself as a pepper-spray tube, the high-intensity type that Mike had given her before.

"Wow, cool, thanks," she said, holding it up. "But wasn't it a bit of overkill to put it in a mailing tube?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, it would be. If that was the only thing in there."

"Ooh, let me see." Putting the pepper spray down, she slid her hand into the tube until she felt the change in texture of the side, then dragged the contents out. It turned out to be a large poster of some sort, with a rubber band wrapped around it. "What is it?"

Mike gave her an irritating grin. "Have a look. I think this is something you've needed for a while."

"Okay …" She slid the rubber band off of it and unrolled it. At first the picture made no sense.

"What?" Amy tilted her head to one side. "What is it?"

And then Taylor got it. She turned it ninety degrees, and burst out laughing. "Holy crap! You took photos!"

"I did," agreed Mike cheerfully. "It was only fair, after she tried to kill me."

For the poster was a full-sized shot of Shadow Stalker, bound up with Christmas lights. Taylor couldn't see her expression, given that she was wearing a full-face mask, but she could just imagine it. She was laughing so hard that she had to sit down; Amy took the poster from her and examined it. "This is real?" she asked. "Shadow Stalker really tried to kill you?"

"Yes, Michael," Gladys asked him. "A superhero tried to kill you and you didn't tell me?"

"We barely knew each other then," he protested. "I didn't want you worrying."

She took his hand. "I would much rather know, and worry, than not know, and find out later."

Humbly, he nodded. "Yes, dear."

"So this is really real?" asked Amy for the second time.

"Sure as hell," Taylor answered, still giggling. "He broke up a bullying attempt and made her look pretty bad. Got her suspended. She came around that night and tried to kill him."

"Which I kind of anticipated," Mike pointed out. "I had a plan."

"Not all of your plans have turned out exactly as you wanted," Gladys noted.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I know. But that one did. Thankfully. So once I had her subdued, I zip-tied her then wrapped her in Christmas lights."

"But why Christmas lights?" asked Gladys. "Not that it doesn't make it a very festive photo, but I don't see the point."

"Mike explained this one to me," Taylor said happily. "Electricity. If she phases through something that's got a charge running through it, she gets zapped big-time."

"Oh. Oh." Gladys' gaze upon Mike softened somewhat. "So I see you were thinking ahead. Mostly."

Danny examined the poster. "I have to say, I probably won't get as much satisfaction out of this as Taylor will, but I do like it. A lot." He nodded to Mike. "Nicely done."

"Thanks," Mike replied with a return nod. "I've been waiting for months to give it to her." He grinned at Taylor. "I take it you like it."

In reply, Taylor got out of her chair, rounded the table, and hugged him fiercely. "I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much. Just seeing it makes my whole year."

"Well, good," he said. "I -"

At that moment, his phone went off. "Huh, I wonder who's texting me now," he muttered, digging his phone out of his pocket. "About everyone I know is in this room."

He thumbed it on and tapped in his PIN, then opened up the text. In the next moment, Taylor saw something she never wanted to see; his face turning almost dead white.

"What is it?" she asked.

For an answer, he held the phone up so that everyone could see the screen.

GET OUT NOW.

A sudden golden glow glared in through the window as he opened his mouth. "Doorway -"


End of Part Forty-Nine

Part Fifty
 
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