TALES OF THE LEGENDARY
REUNIONS
(a HERO SANDWICH production)
Chapter Two
Rhea drifted slowly in the air currents swirling around the upper stories of the skyscrapers in Steel Canyon, cradling Mr. Whiskers to her chest and staring
sightlessly at the ground far, far below.
"I'll find him, fuzzbutt," she said fiercely. "And... oh, Mr. Whiskers, what am I going to do?" She held the cat at arms length and
looked into his plastic eyes. As always, she could see the concern and protectiveness radiating from them, despite their construction. Mr. Whiskers just
-looked- like a toy, but he was one powerful kitty behind the mask. She noted with a faint flicker of amusement that she'd forgotten to put his Happy Eyes
back on, and so he still wore the Angry Eyes that he'd stared down the thug with. She fixed that even as he 'spoke'.
(I wasn't with you back then,) he noted with a puzzled tone to the voice only she could hear. (He was... your mate?)
"No... not quite," she said, settling back on a convenient updraft. The power of flight that Mr. Whiskers let her use was probably her favorite of
all, next to his amazing healing powers. "We were engaged... we'd been together since high school." She looked pensive. "I was going to
college, and Danny was working in the factory. He'd gone to work there so we could afford our own place while I was in school. He... he gave up
everything, for me."
(What happened?)
Tears welled in Rhea's eyes again as she remembered the day the police had finally listened to her, that her Danny was missing. Three days he had been
gone, and for the first two they'd refused to even file a report, telling her that he was probably sleeping off a drinking binge somewhere. They
wouldn't listen when she told them that was impossible, that he didn't drink like that.
And when a detective finally DID come around, to take her statement, he eyed the fading bruise on her arm -- caused by a too-energetic lovemaking session the
night before he vanished -- and suggested that perhaps she was better off without him. She tried to explain, but he simply smiled and nodded and once back in
his car she saw him tear off the top page of his notepad and wad it up. He hadn't understood, any more than the ones on the phone had. Oh, sure, he'd
listened... but he hadn't -heard-.
Her Danny had vanished. Into thin air. The factory said he'd clocked out as usual, collected his check, and left. The check was cashed, again as usual,
at the local bank -- they had been intending to pay bills the next day, in cash, all perfectly routine. Neither of them trusted banks overly much.
And somewhere between the teller window and their one-bedroom apartment, Danny and his beat-up Ford had disappeared into thin air.
"I looked for him for a couple months," Rhea noted absently, toying with the fur between Mr. Whiskers ears. "Put out ads, offered a reward,
everything. Nobody knew where he was, nobody saw him or his truck. We didn't have any credit cards or checks or anything like that... Danny didn't
trust them. The police said that using only cash like that made it easy to drop out of sight... they hinted that he'd done it on purpose!" She
closed her eyes and hugged the cat tight for a moment.
"Eventually I had to drop out of school," she continued. "I couldn't look for Danny, and work, and go to school, all at the same time. But
it didn't do any good. He never showed up. Everyone in town began looking at me funny all the time, like they thought I couldn't tell that they
thought I was crazy. Or worse, I'd ask if there was any news, and they'd get this pitying look on their face, and try to change the subject!"
She clenched her fists unconcsiously, then relaxed. "It... it was frustrating, but they didn't know Danny like I did. He was a survivor, a fighter.
He'd find his way back to me. I kept telling myself that."
(What changed?)
Rhea was silent for several minutes, the only noise the sighing of the breeze she sat on and the muffled snap of a flag on a pole jutting out from the building
nearby. Then her voice took on a rote, almost mechanical quality, the same tone that her therapist wrote notes about every time it appeared, thinking she
didn't notice.
"I came home from work late one night and found my parents lying dead on the floor. Mom's throat had been cut, and Dad had been stabbed twenty-seven
times in the back. The house had been robbed. All the cash, and all the gold and silver jewelry, though there wasn't much of that. The police said there
were no fingerprints, no footprints, no sign of forced entry -- in fact, they thought it must have been a friend, or someone my folks knew, because all signs
pointed to whoever it was having been invited in. Some of them... some of them even hinted that maybe it had been me, at first." She laughed, a small,
far-away part of her mind noting as usual that it wasn't normal to talk about these things like this, and as usual she ignored it.
"And after that... well, I had nothing left, y'know? I left a note to Danny with Mr. Harris -- he was a friend of my fathers and was handling the
will and stuff -- and ran. The Army doesn't care if you don't know anything and can't do anything, and my pre-med courses actually counted for
something with them... so that's what I did."
(And that's where I found you,) Mr. Whiskers noted with a slightly-smug tone. (So at least that was a good thing. Right?)
Rhea laughed. "I ... I guess, in a way. And the Army was good to me, up until -you- showed up," she added, poking Mr. Whiskers' nose gently.
"Then they called me crazy and kicked me out, but that's okay. They don't know any better."
(You're not crazy. I'm sorry my mission causes trouble for you... but I have to do it this way. You understand, right? I have to help... it's
why I have these powers in the first place. It's my duty. And I need your help to do it.)
"I know," Rhea said, hugging the toy again. "Believe me, I know. And we ARE helping, right? We've helped lots of people."
(Oh, absolutely. Dozens, at least.)
"Hundreds," Rhea said, nodding.
(Thousands, probably. I've quite lost count, actually.)
"Billions and billions served," Rhea said, and giggled.
(Feel better?)
Rhea nodded. "Much. Thanks. You're the best, Whiskers."
(So what now?)
"Well..." Rhea tilted forward and looked down at the streets below. "I want to find Danny and ask him a few questions. Like, where he's
been, and why he's dressed like a bad guy, and ... stuff like that." Her face fell, but she resolutely pushed it away. Time enough to worry about
how to break it off later. "And then I guess we'll see."
(Lisa and Terrence were going to help you look for him. Maybe we should go find them?)
"I... no, not yet." Rhea shook her head slowly. "I love the big lunk, but Terrence's temper isn't something I want to deal with just
yet. He's too likely to go off half-cocked... and, well, Danny's really good at pushing buttons," she admitted with a laugh. "I don't
need Terrence being all over-protective or jealous or something, which would make Danny get all snarky, and from there it'd probably end with me and Lisa
having to beat them both up just to keep it from becoming World War III."
(He -is- a bit ... territorial, isn't he?) The image of an absurdly-muscled tomcat, wearing Terrence's usual leather jacket and shades, strutting
through an alley and marking the fence flashed through her mind. Rhea laughed.
"That's one way of putting it. But it's kinda cute, too." Rhea winked at the toy. "And he comes with Lisa, and, well, yeah."
She shook her head. "I never thought I'd fall so hard for a girl. I mean, I knew girls could be fun, but... Lisa's just... wow." She
fastened Mr. Whiskers' paws to the shoulder of her t-shirt and started drifting down from her lofty perch.
(She makes my tail twitch.)
"I'll make sure to tell her you said that."
It was half-past-lunch when Lisa called a frustrated halt to her and Terrence's wild goose chase outside a small cafe. She collapsed wearily into a chair
that was, at this point, more comfortable than it looked (not very), and waved listlessly at the hostess, miming a pot being poured and holding up two fingers.
"This is pointless," she told Terrence as he settled into the seat opposite her, removing his visor and gauntlets and laying them aside. The hostess
approached and set down two mugs already filled with the house blend, murmured pleasant greetings, and left them with menus and a promised return of a waiter
soon.
"We've been -everywhere-, twice," Lisa continued. "Nobody's seen Danny, or anyone matching his description. Which isn't
surprising. Let's face it, chances are he's not wandering around randomly stabbing people, so he's going to look just like any other newbie hero
out flaunting their powers, if he uses them at all. And flying redheads with stuffed cats are a dime a dozen in this city, so the few leads we DID get,
weren't her." She blew her bangs away from her forehead with an irritated puff of air and slouched back in her seat, disgruntled. She picked up one
of the mugs and drained half of it in one gulp.
Terrence used one massive finger to ease the other mug across the table towards Lisa, his face a study in suppressed frustration. "Her beacon is still
off," he added as an afterthought, jerking his chin at his visor. "And she left her cellphone back at your place. It's like she doesn't
WANT to be found." His brows furrowed, he looked up at Lisa with a worried frown. "You don't think he got to her already, do you?"
Lisa's breath caught in her throat for a moment, but she shook her head. "No," she said when her voice returned. "He's an egotistical
prick. He'd want us to KNOW if he had her. Since we haven't heard anything... he doesn't have her yet." Please, please, please let me be
right, she added to herself.
"Are you ready to order?" Lisa and Terrence both looked up and blinked, startled, at the unexpected question. Their waiter stood there, pencil and
pad poised. For a moment, Lisa felt herself begin to grow irritated -- couldn't this guy see they were BUSY? -- and then she forced herself to relax. She
looked over at Terrence.
"We do need to eat something," she pointed out quietly. "Both of us have been going for a long time, with no sleep."
"Yeah," Terrence acknowledged with a decided lack of enthusiasm. He picked up a menu, frowned at it momentarily, and handed it to the waiter.
"Two specials and a chef salad."
Lisa grinned despite her mood at the waiter's startled look, and added, "Make that three specials, and I'll take a bowl of the chowder, too."
A screaming Hellion plummeted down from above, bounced off an invisible bubble a few feet above the umbrella over their open-air table, and landed heavily in
the middle of the street. A few seconds later a brightly-clad hero landed, somewhat more gracefully, next to the groaning criminal and tagged him.
"Sorry about that!" He waved cheerfully at the cafe. "Didn't expect him to fly that far off the edge." The Hellion vanished in a
burst of light, and the hero took to the skies.
Lisa and Terrence eyed the spot where the Hellion had been just moments before. They turned their gaze on each other, and burst out laughing.
"M-m-medicom!" Lisa managed after a few moments. "What are we worried about? If he tries anything -- assuming she doesn't just kick his
butt -- she'll just wind up in the nearest hospital!"
Terrence nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips. "He's sneaky, but he's a wuss -- I'd bet either of you could take him in a stand-up
fight."
Lisa shook her head. "We still need to find her, or him, before they find each other. But..." she blew a sigh and drained the rest of her first cup
of coffee. "It's not a life-or-death thing. Rhea'll be okay... I was forgetting that."
Rhea stood on the corner in the late afternoon sun, watching the traffic -- both vehicle and pedestrian -- flow by, and wondered for at least the thousandth
time that day if she'd simply been dreaming. Or if maybe the Army was right and she really -was- delusional. Surely Danny hadn't actually appeared
out of nowhere and attacked Terrence. Right?
Maybe that was all there was to it. The Army was right, she was certifiably nuts, and the stuffed cat on her shoulder was nothing more than a stuffed cat, and
not an intergalactic (interdimensional? magical? she didn't know and hadn't asked) feline savior come to Earth to make sure humanity didn't destroy
itself.
(Well, that can't be right,) Whiskers put in as her mood started to swing towards the black.
"Hmm?" she responded absently.
(If you WERE nuts, you wouldn't really be able to blast that Skull trying to sneak up behind us.)
A few moments later, she laughed and nuzzled her feline companion with her cheek. "You're right, Whiskers. Sorry I doubted." She dropped an
arrest beacon on the unconscious, lightly-smoking gang member at her feet and watched as he vanished. Poof, gone, just like that.
Just like Danny.
Danny. Since she wasn't nuts, as Whiskers pointed out, then Danny wasn't a figment of her imagination. That meant he had to be around here somewhere.
Out of a vague sense of purpose she'd come back to the office complex where the fight had occurred yesterday, but as usual, the city repair crew was on
the ball and there was nothing of the scene remaining except a large bin full of broken glass and other remnants, labeled "401 PLEASE REMOVE" and
awaiting pickup on the curb.
She supposed she could go back to the apartment and get Lisa and Terrence to help her search, but... she wasn't blind, or stupid, and she'd seen how
much hearing about Danny had hurt them last night. It had hurt her, too. She'd never imagined getting involved, seriously involved, with anybody again,
and then it had landed on her lap.
(Technically, you were on Lisa's lap,) Whiskers put in. Rhea chuckled in fond memory.
"Yeah, I guess I was, wasn't I?" She scratched the fuzzball under his chin, shivering as his purring echoed down her back.
"But that doesn't change things," she added sadly. "I have to fix this mess somehow."
And no matter which way she turned it over in her head, she just couldn't see how it could all work out. She loved Terrence and Lisa, but she'd loved
Danny, too -- she still did, she admitted candidly to herself -- and now that Danny was back, in the same city at least even if she didn't know where he
actually WAS at the moment --
"Hey, babe, long time no see."
That voice! Rhea whirled. Danny stood there, leaning against the lamppost, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a baseball cap on his head and a small smile on
his face.
"D-Danny?" she heard herself say.
He pushed off the post with his shoulders and came forward. "It's me, Rheabeth." He chuckled, then, a sound that as always sent shivers down
her spine. His voice had always been wonderful, and hearing it again was enough to drive her crazy. "It's been a long time," he continued
softly. "I know you've probably got a lot of questions for me. We've got some catching up to do."
Despite her shock, Rhea shook her head. "Danny, you... you just vanished! Everyone said you were dead... and...." She closed her eyes tightly and
took a deep breath. "And ... I started to believe them, finally," she finished in a whisper.
A light touch on her chin raised her head, but she kept her eyes closed as it turned into a gentle caress on her cheek, and she felt herself smiling in
response.
"I know, hon," Danny said. "It was a hard time for me too. But I didn't have a choice; you know that. You know I'd never do anything
to hurt you, babe."
She opened her eyes to his, her green meeting his brown, glittering and dark and dangerous and safe all at once, and Rhea nodded, a sob escaping her throat.
"I ... I know... but you were -gone-..."
"I'm back." He drew her into a hug, his big warm hands holding her, just like they had before, just like she'd hoped they always would. She
leaned into the embrace gratefully. It had been so -long-...
(Careful, Rhea,) Mr. Whiskers put in suddenly. (You need to find out where he went, what he's been doing... why he left you in the first place.)
(It's okay, Whiskers,) she said to the voice in her head. (He had a good reason, I'm sure.)
With what might have been a disdainful sniff, she felt Whiskers retreat from the conversation, and sighed. Well, he'd come around.
Danny was back!
It was only by sheer effort, Rhea thought, that she'd been able to handle the entire thing. It was almost -painful-, in fact, but she knew that would ease
off soon enough. She leaned back and sighed appreciatively, licking the last traces off her lips.
(Satisfied?)
(Ohhh yes,) Rhea replied, trying not to laugh at the wry undertones to Whiskers' remark. (I wouldn't want to try again any time soon, but that was
very, very good.)
"You always did like chocolate," Danny said quietly. Rhea looked up and met his eyes, and laughed.
"And you always found the best places to get it," she said, glancing around at the restaurant she hadn't even known was here, high in one of the
towers dotting the high-rent district of Talos Island. Danny grinned at her and tipped his wine glass in salute.
"All part of the service," he quipped.
The waiter came and unobtrusively removed the dessert plate, while Rhea toyed with her own glass -- just water, for her, and not the expensive Merlot that,
across the table, Danny sipped at with obvious pleasure. She wanted to forget all the troubles and just enjoy being around him again, but she didn't want
to do it through drink. She'd made enough mistakes before that way.
Nudged more by the fact that Whiskers -hadn't- said anything, Rhea leaned forward again and broached the subject they'd both been avoiding all night.
"Danny?"
He looked up at her, flashing that grin she knew so well, and she almost changed her mind. But the cat nudged her forward -- (Go on, ask him!) -- and she
really did want the answer, she did, but...
"Where did you go?"
His mouth flattened, not in anger but in a sort of thoughtful pensiveness, and he shrugged. "I can't really answer that, hon." He held up a
hand to forestall an outburst. "What I mean is, I don't know." At her inquisitive look, he shrugged again and took a sip of wine before
continuing.
"The day I... vanished, I guess, was a payday." He waited for her to nod. "Well, I cashed my check and was heading for the store to pick some
things up before going home when I saw this wrecked car on the side of the road. There was a girl there, about twenty or so, I'd say. She was leaning
half out of the car, through the windshield, and bleeding all over the hood."
"Oh, no," Rhea said. "Was she okay?"
"That's what -I- wanted to find out," Danny replied, raising an eyebrow. "So, I stopped the truck and got out to take a look, make sure she
was okay... and next thing you know I'm waking up in a ditch with a coyote sniffing at me trying to decide if I'd make a good dinner."
"A -coyote-?" Rhea was baffled. Danny nodded.
"Yep. Turns out I'd been dumped in Texas, somewhere near Galveston." He toyed with his wineglass briefly, then drained it and set it down on
the pristine linen tablecloth. "Anyway. Whoever she was, she took all the cash, took the truck, and left me there, naked, with a lump on my head the
size of an ostrich egg."
"But..." Rhea shook her head. "I looked for you for a -year-, Danny! You weren't anywhere... you could have -walked- back to our house by
then." A bit of humor crept into her voice, despite her misgivings. "Or -called-, at least. Sent a telegram. -Something-."
Danny smiled sadly at her. "I could have, sure, babe. If I'd known what my address was, or who I was. Or who you were, even." He shook his
head. "Told you she left me with a lump on the noggin. The doctors told me I might never get full memory back."
"Amnesia?"
He nodded. "I'm afraid so. It wasn't until I saw you on that show on TV not that long ago that things started to come back to me." He
reached across the table and took her hand in his own. "So you see, babe... you saved me. You really are a hero!"
(I don't like this, Rhea,) Whiskers put in as she grappled with the news. (That sounds like something out of a soap opera -- a bad one.)
Rhea did her best to ignore Mr. Whiskers -- he didn't know Danny like she did, she understood that -- and instead focused on the other thing that had been
bothering her.
"Danny," she said slowly, not meeting his eyes, "why were you at that office building earlier? With those thugs? You were dressed like one of
the bad guys." She bit her lip. "One of the ones I've sworn to stop."
Danny shook his head, his face wearing a rueful grin, and chuckled. "Well, I suppose that's what I get for not listening to the guy at the costume
shop." He sighed. "That was supposed to be a hero costume, babe. I was there to bust those goons, keep them from stealing those files. Just my
bad luck you and your friends crashed the party and jumped to the wrong conclusion." He raised an eyebrow at Rhea. "I guess I need to make the
costume a little more hero-like, huh?"
Rhea goggled at him. "You're... a hero?!"
Danny nodded slowly. "Well, what do you expect?" he added. "You've gone and become a famous hero without me -- not your fault, you
didn't know -- and from the looks of it you're doing pretty well at it. I've got no useful skills outside the factory, I need some way to
support... myself." He reached across the table and took her hand. "And didn't we always say we'd stick together on everything? Partners,
you and me, babe. All the way. Right?" He shrugged. "You're a hero, hon. Can I be less... for you?"
Rhea's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Danny..."
"Now then," Danny said briskly. "Mind telling me what's been going on with you? Your... friend, back there, seemed awfully... hmm,
what's the word... touchy." He grinned. "I didn't get a chance to even say hello or introduce myself before I was seeing stars."
Despite herself, Rhea giggled as she wiped at the tears on her cheeks with her napkin. "That's Terrence. He's a nice guy, really he is, he just
gets caught up in the fight sometimes."
"And the other one? The cute redheaded nuclear reactor."
"That's Lisa. She's Terrence's girlfriend." Rhea bit her lip momentarily, then pushed on. "And mine."
Danny raised an eyebrow. "Wow, babe, I never knew..." He leaned back and she could tell he was fighting to suppress a grin. "That's, um,
a mental image I don't think I'll ever forget."
"Danny!" Rhea scolded him, but her heart wasn't in it -- and she could feel her cheeks redden.
"That's a whole new twist on 'afterglow'," Danny chuckled, and Rhea blushed anew.
Outwardly he was calm, amused, cheerful; the Danny his little Rheabeth had known and loved. It was easy to do. He'd lived that life before, putting on
the mask for another performance was simplicity itself. He didn't even have to think about the correct responses, it was just something he -did-.
Inwardly, he contemplated.
That Rhea was in a relationship -- committed? He didn't know or particularly care, really -- he'd known about. It was hard to miss. Any fool with a
library pass or Internet access could find out that much. -That- didn't bother him. It made her all the more enticing. Little Rhea had been, he
recalled, getting quite boring. She had loved her Danny, and her Danny loved her; all was right with her world.
Screw -that-. The only reason he'd kept her so long was because she provided excellent cover. And, he thought with a mental chuckle, the sex was fun. In
bed together he could cause a little pain, which she enjoyed, and subdue the hunger pains that gnawed at him until he could afford to risk another
'meal'.
No, he wasn't bothered by her relationship. If anything, that made it all the better. He hadn't realized the depth of their commitment to each other
at first. Now that he knew...
... well, even if he didn't manage a matched set of redheads, he'd still enjoy every drop of delicious pain he could cause the trio. And after little
Rhea was dead, he'd return to sop up the fresh agony that knowledge brought the remaining two.
If he didn't take them first, that is. He pondered that. It might be better to take the big man first. Once he was gone, the girls would lose their
protector, and it was obvious that both of them loved the dumb meatshield. Exposed, vulnerable, they'd be easy to feed from and work on further.
Yes. That would be better. His first plan had been hasty, he could see that now. He hadn't done his homework, and that was his fault. He could accept
that.
But now that he knew how dangerous the big man could be, firsthand... it shouldn't be hard to counter it.
And once Terrence Knight was out of the picture, Gamma Emission wouldn't be that far behind. Providing him with plenty of power, -and- the added bonus of
a heartbroken Rheabeth.
Who would only have him left to turn to.
Smiling through the mask, Danny contemplated the torments and the sweet, sweet pain he would visit on the woman across the table from him, and found it good.
It was full dark and then some when a weary Lisa and Terrence returned after a long, fruitless day of searching to Lisa's Steel Canyon apartment. Lisa
barely had the energy to unlock the door, fumbling the attempt three times before Terrence gently but firmly took the keys from her and worked the reluctant
mechanism, just in time to prevent her from simply melting it out of her way.
She was more mentally exhausted than physically, even though at this point she was coming up on, what, her thirty-sixth hour awake? Let's see, Lisa
thought somewhat giddily to herself. If you get up at eight-ish, and don't sleep, there's twenty-four hours in a day, carry the one...
... well, she didn't know exactly how many hours it was, but no matter how you looked at it it was too many.
Terrence, she felt sure, was equally tired. That surely explained why they had nearly reached the hall to the bedroom before the noises from the kitchen
consciously registered.
They froze and shared a wide-eyed glance.
"Rhea!" they said in unison, and dashed for the kitchen.
"Hi guys!" Rhea chirped as the two of them burst in, Lisa catching herself against the table painfully while Terrence gripped the doorframe to avoid
flattening her with his extra momentum.
It was her. Rhea stood there, looking cheerful and upbeat as always. She wore an apron that Terrence had blushed furiously over when she'd picked it up
("Kiss Me, I Can't Cook But I'm Hot"), and held a chocolate-covered rubber spatula in one hand. Behind her on the counter a tray of brownies
sat cooling, with Mr. Whiskers (wearing a cockily perched chef's hat, Lisa noted absently) watching over them with grave concern.
"I made browni--ULP!" Rhea's voice was cut off as Terrence lunged forward and scooped her up into a hug. She returned the hug as her feet left
the floor. Lisa hurried to join them.
"Terr," Lisa said some few minutes later, tapping her hulking boyfriend on the shoulder. From above that same point, Rhea's bright red
complexion and slightly-bulging eyes stared at her in silent pleading.
"Hmm?" Terr grunted.
"Let her breathe, you big dope," Lisa replied fondly.
"Oh! Uh, sorry." Terr released his hold and let Rhea settle back to the floor, where she took several deep breaths.
"Whew! I missed you too," she said teasingly after her voice had returned. Then, seeing their gazes, her face fell. "Hey... what's the
matter?"
Lisa shook her head. "Nothing... we're just glad you're back."
Rhea raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the counter, dropping the spatula back into the mixing bowl. "You say that like you didn't think I was
coming back," she noted with unusual seriousness.
Terrence and Lisa eyed each other. Terrence looked away first, focusing on a spot on the wall that seemed to demand his whole attention. Lisa took a deep
breath.
"We weren't sure," she said honestly, if not completely so. They hadn't been sure if Rhea would be -allowed- to come back, if she found
Danny.
And the sparkle in her girlfriend's eye told Lisa that Rhea -had-.
"Well then," Rhea said, pushing off the counter and coming forward to stand so close to Terrence and herself that Lisa could feel the other
woman's body heat against her skin. "I guess I have to work harder at... convincing you."
Lisa blinked and opened her mouth to respond, and Rhea grinned wickedly and blazed out a blue glow that washed over the three of them and rebounded off the
walls before fading out.
Lisa's fingers tightened involuntarily against the underside of the table, and she felt her nails dig in. "That's a g-good argument," she
said at last. Tired? Who was tired? Not her! A quick sidelong glance told her that Terrence felt it too.
Whatever Rhea had been up to all day, she was in a -mood-, if the intensity of that aura was anything to judge by. Lisa would have found time to worry about
it, if Rhea hadn't chosen that moment to lean forward and nibble gently at the side of her neck.
"Wait," Lisa managed as Rhea hmm'd and chose another spot to attack. Terrence grunted, a surprised sound, and Lisa guessed that Rhea's other
hand was busy -- since one of them was trailing nails up and down her spine, there weren't many other options. At least not standing and with clothes on.
"We need to oh my god."
"Naughty, naughty," Rhea whispered as her hand caressed sensitive skin that Lisa could have sworn was protected by clothing a moment before.
"Less talk, more shower. Then bed. Then probably shower again, and maybe chocolate. Tomorrow we can talk."
Lisa opened her eyes partway as their lips met. Rhea's eyes were blazing green, mere inches from her own, and as Rhea's tongue flickered across her
lips she stared into them and saw the hunger, the need... and the concern. The love.
And she knew without further words that if she truly wanted Rhea to stop, the other woman would. The last time she'd rejected Rhea's attentions had
been hard for all of them, but they'd grown since then. They knew each other far better now. And Lisa knew she could stop this train before it really got
rolling, and it wouldn't drive Rhea away this time like it almost before. Those emerald eyes pleaded with her to accept it. Rhea wanted -her-...
"Please," Rhea said, breathing against her ear. "Please, Lisa, I swear I'll answer any question, anything, tomorrow... but not
tonight." Her voice carried pain with it, but also an undercurrent of excitement and hope. "I love you guys, I need you... let me show you how
much."
The knowledge that she could say no, Lisa reflected, made it that much easier.
"Okay," she said, and returned the kiss in full.
(Click here for the Directors Cut extended scene. Warning, no pictures but probably NSFW.)
Sell-Sword accepted the steaming paper cup from the barista behind the counter, waved off her attempt to hand him his change -- "Keep it." -- and
headed outside into the cool morning air of New Overbrook, sipping at the steaming brew. He found an empty bench and sat down.
It was only a matter of minutes before his contact arrived. A man in jeans and a polo shirt, his close-trimmed beard and mustache obscuring but failing to
hide a purplish bruise on his jaw, and a Paragon Knights baseball cap on his head. Sword noted the faint outlines of something hard under the jeans and shirt
-- body armor, perhaps?
"Mr. Wesson," said the man in greeting. He sat at the opposite end of the bench.
"Ah, you must be Mr. Smith." Sell-Sword turned slightly, regarding the other carefully. "You wanted to discuss some business?"
"I could use a man of your talents, yes," Smith said.
"What's the job?"
"I want you to provide me with an opening and distraction so I can pull off a rescue, and a means for escape afterwards. Inbound is myself only, on the
way out it will be me and one other."
"Hot extract?"
"I hope not, but the possibility exists." Smith shrugged. "I have faith in my own talents, and your reputation is... well known to me. I
doubt it will be difficult for both of us working together."
Sword's face was perfectly still, even as he frowned to himself. He wasn't sure if Smith recognized him or not, but he knew the other. Smith was not
the man's name, of course, no more than any of the alibis he himself had used in the past were his. A paid assassin, but not a professional; what Sword
had seen of Smith's work long ago suggested a title of sadist or torturer.
Even as he pondered, another part of his brain was continuing the negotiations. "Complications?"
"The target is well guarded, by two misguided but earnest heroes. You know the type. One of them seems to be a radiation specialist of some sort, the
other is your standard meatshield." Smith's cheek twitched. "I can handle the rad-flinger, though the other would be tricky. But he's dumb
as a brick, so it shouldn't be hard for you to distract him. Just stay out of his reach."
"Anything else?"
"The guardians are members of a rather prominent supergroup -- The Legendary. So we'd need to vanish quickly afterwards. The escape needs to factor
possible retaliation or a hunt into the plan."
"Timeframe?"
"As soon as possible. Days, not weeks."
Sword shook his head. "Then I'm not your guy. I'm on a contract already."
"I'm quite prepared to pay --"
Sword stood and dropped his cup into the trash. "No."
"But why?" Smith frowned, his eyebrows coming together in puzzlement. "You're a mercenary, Wesson. Loyalty to the highest bidder,
right?"
Sword stared down at the other, his body language expressing nothing, his face an impenetrable shell. He relied on that in times like this; it helped him keep
from exposing more information than he wanted to. At the mention of The Legendary, it had clicked. That combination -- radiation, a tank, a third? -- could
only be one set of people in that group. He didn't know if Gamma Emission or Emerald Blast was the actual target, but that didn't matter. He was
under contract to Riot Force; Riot Force was allied with The Legendary. Professional ethics demanded he refuse the hit.
And besides which, it would be plain bad sense to cross either group, especially from within. Down that road would lie nothing but debt and pain.
Finally, he spoke. "I'm a -professional-, Mr. Smith. It's all about business. And I don't see any profit in your plans. Good day."
He turned and left.
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs