Double Lives

[Alumette]

Silvia threaded her way through the streets in Galaxy to the arena, avoiding the many packs of street thugs as she did so. It was getting harder and harder not to get mugged these days, despite all the costumed crimefighters running about. Besides, now was not the time for her to be using her powers. Her shoulder bag was heavy with books. Why did I decide to take summer school? she thought, sighing. She climbed the steps to the arena and looked at her watch. Figures, she thought, furrowing her brow. He’s late. She could imagine what Sergio was likely up to… running around as Grande Brasil, keeping Paragon City safe. Silvia supposed there were worse things he could be doing with his time, although she worried. Sergio was prideful, which meant that he was just as likely in the hospital for having bitten off more than he could chew; and the fact that she was the only person on earth who knew his secret meant that, should worse come to worse, she’d have to have a pretty difficult conversation with Senhor da Silva. She glanced around, trying to spot him. A glance westward yielded a giggle: she was certain he wasn’t coming from the library.

“…I told you Frank, not today,” Silvia followed the sound of the voice and her eyes settled on a handsome, well-dressed man in his late twenties, speaking into a mobile phone. She smiled. Well hello, handsome! she thought to herself.

“…I’ve got a busy schedule” he continued. He turned a bit, so she could see his profile. “…well, about two o’clock…” Oh god! That’s Stephen Clark! Silvia thought, recognizing the CEO of Clark enterprises from the paper. He continued on his telephone, and Silvia continued admiring him as she settled herself down on a comfortable spot and got her books out to study. From time to time she peered up at him, stealing a glance here and there through her wire-rimmed glasses. He caught her eye, and she gave a timid little wave. “Hello,” she ventured.

“Evening.”

Silvia stood. “Aren’t you…?”

Mr. Clark chuckled. “So they tell me.”

“Well you’re much handsomer in person,” Silvia said, chuckling. Oh god did I just say that out loud?! She wanted to disappear on the spot.

He came to her rescue by extending a hand. “Handsomer, eh?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. “But since you asked, yes, I’m Stephen Clark.”

“I’m Silvia,” she replied, shaking his hand and smiling.

“So what brings you to the arena?” He had kind eyes and a winning smile. Silvia was about to open her mouth to reply when what had brought her to the arena arrived on the scene. “’Ey garota!” Sergio. With his usual perfect timing.

“Hey Sergio!” she called out, waving. He jogged up to them, grinning, and taking in Mr. Clark with a touch of disdain. “What’s up, pops?” Silvia was mortified. She shot a withering glance at Sergio.

“This gentleman a friend of yours, Silvia?” her face reddened. “Yes, I’m sorry, this is my friend, Sergio.” Mr. Clark smiled and extended a hand. Sergio ignored it. “We go to school together,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Well, nice to meet you, Sergio.”

“Feelin’s mutual, neh?”

Silvia’s blood boiled. In a lot of ways it was nice growing up with Sergio as a friend. In truth he was like a brother to her: teasing her mercilessly, lending a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen, being her partner in crime on the rare occasions when she’d sneak out or skip class (two things at which Sergio was an expert), and protecting her from guys—usually when she didn’t need protection. Like now. She gave him another wordless glance, although her eyes said it all. She was not amused.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m keeping you two. I should be off,” Mr. Clark said, somewhat crestfallen.

“Oh, hey, don’t mind me,” Sergio replied with a smirk. Silvia glared at him. “No, wait,” she called out at Mr. Clark was turning to go. He paused. “We should get together sometime for coffee. Let me give you my phone number.” Stephen seemed surprised, but took a few steps closer to Silvia as she began rummaging in her bag for a piece of paper and a pen.

“O que voce esta fazendo com este gringo?” What are you doing with this gringo? Sergio asked, perturbed.

“So isto falando. Ta bem?” Just talking. That okay with you? Silvia replied with fire in her eyes. She scratched out her number and handed it to Stephen, who was ready with a business card. She smiled as they exchanged digits, her eyes soft. Sergio grumbled. Silvia ignored him.

“I have class most nights, but… I can make room in my schedule,” she beamed. She could almost feel Sergio’s disgust as he rolled his eyes. She tuned it out. “Don’t forget, we gotta study too,” Sergio ventured. She glanced at him and retorted, “Since when do you study?”

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep in touch. My schedule needs tending to, also,” Stephen said, taking his leave with grace.

“Of course. It was a pleasure, Mr. Clark,” Silvia responded dreamily.

Stephen Clark turned to Sergio. “Era um prazer encontrando-o, Sergio,” It was a pleasure to meet you. Silvia’s jaw dropped as he turned to go.

Sergio shrugged. “So the Yanqui knows a little Portuguese. Big deal.”

No time like the present. Silvia made her irritation known. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Sergio a look. “What’s with him?” Sergio asked. “Who the heck is he?”

Silvia looked incredulous. “Stephen Clark? CEO of Clark Enterprises?” You’d have to be living under a rock not to have heard of the giant corporation. “You do read the papers from time to time, don’t you?”

Sergio shrugged. “Never heard of him. I get all my news from O Globo and Jota-B,” he smirked.

Silvia shook her head. Oh here we go, she thought. It’s got more to do with the fact that he’s a gringo than anything.

Meanwhile, a figure in a brown, canine-themed hero costume perched on the roof of the arena, watching the two college kids. Sergio looked around. “You ever get the feeling you’re being watched?” Silvia shrugged, looking around, seeing nothing.

“We were supposed to be here to study fifteen minutes ago,” she said. “You’re late.” Back to the subject at hand.

“Well I’m sorry. I got, you know, held up.”

Silvia’s eyes widened and she looked around, lowering her voice a bit, “You mean…held up, as in…?” she made a subtle boxing gesture. Sergio rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dense,” he said.

The two continued their playful banter for a time. All the while, the watching hero took notice, snapping pictures and observing quietly.

“Still, if you ruin coffee, I’m going to be really pissed,” she said.

“Oh, is that a policy I should hold with all your Yanqui boyfriends?”

“Boyfriend nothing,” she chided. Seemed no matter how hard she tried, Sergio had a way of managing to get her to avoid studying altogether. He brought the subject around once more to his job situation; or lack thereof. “Crime don’t pay,” he said, looking around and lowering his voice, “but fighting crime under the table don’t fill the pocket neither. How am I supposed to explain to Pai that I’m getting a ton of cash and free stuff?”

Silvia nodded. It was a subject that preoccupied them both on a regular basis. “But didn’t you tell him you got a job?”

“I told ‘im I was delivering pizza,” he said. Silvia nodded; it wasn’t a bad cover, since most of their crime-fighting happened at night. Sergio gave her his “don’t be dense” look. “Garota,” he began, “one guy handed me a check for three hundred for saving his gringo butt over in Kings.” Now it made sense. No one had ever given Silvia that much money for saving them, but then again, as heroes went, her powers weren’t that strong, and her costume was nowhere near as flashy as most. It made it easier to hide. Sergio on the other hand… well, he was the type you couldn’t ignore, even if you wanted to. She smiled coyly at him. “Three hundred, eh?”

Sergio nodded, obviously thinking about something besides the feminine brown eyes looking at him. “Yeah. I want to buy a new bike,” he said.

“Well, you could take me out to dinner,” she said coquettishly. Sergio rolled his eyes. “That would be like dating my sister.” Silvia chuckled a bit and decided to let it drop. Sergio obviously already had. “I should totally be driving a Ducati,” he said. “Instead of that Yamaha bosta that I have.”

“Yeah, with me on the back!” Silvia grinned. “So what are you going to do?”

The hero that had been observing them moved quietly to another position, where he could hear their conversation. He tried to stay out of sight, not only to spy on the young students, but also because if he had been seen, he would have been easily recognized as the famous Rottweiler.

“I dunno,” Sergio shrugged. “I just wish I had a better front job, y’know?”

Front job? Is Sergio a criminal? Rottie thought to himself.

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Something that doesn’t have nothin’ but money come out. Like, you know, work in an office.”

The Rottweiler vanished, unseen, from the scene.

Silvia suggested the classifieds and the campus job center. Sergio made a face. “Well, yeah, but then they’d expect me to, you know, show up and do stuff.” Silvia looked at him incredulously. “It’s a job, Sergio,” she said. “Of course they’d expect you to show up.”

“But that’s not the point of getting the job!” Sergio retorted. “I need something that lets me ‘splain where I’m sinkin’ all those hours!” Silvia put a hand to her face and shook her head, sighing. “I know, Sergio,” she said resignedly. “You’re never going to find a job like that. The hard part about…” she cut herself off and lowered her voice. “The hard part about what we do is juggling it all and making it look normal on the surface,” she said.



Just then a modest black limousine pulled up to the curb nearby. Sergio grinned. “Ho ho!” Silvia glanced over her shoulder, following his gaze. Stephen Clark stepped out. “Hey look, your boyfriend’s loaded!” Silvia grinned and waved at Stephen, and then turned and gave Sergio a glare. “He is not my boyfriend,” she asserted.

“Yeah right,” Sergio teased.

“Hey, Silvia, you have a minute?” Stephen called out. She nodded. Sergio crossed his arms “What do you see in this guy?” he asked, annoyed. “I haven’t had time to decide that yet,” she hissed. “I’ll be right back.” She put on a smile and strode over to where Mr. Clark was standing.

“You okay?” Stephen asked.

“Fine,” she said. “Just trying to solve a little problem.” Silvia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted her glasses.

“Anything I can do to help?”

Silvia could feel Sergio’s eyes on her. There was probably plenty Mr. Clark could do to help, actually; but she knew how prideful Sergio was. That and he’d made it plenty clear he didn’t much care for her spending time with a Yanqui, although it wouldn’t have been the first time they’d had that argument. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Stephen waved kindly to Sergio, who nodded a curt response.

“Um, well…” Silvia began. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d ticked Sergio off. She closed her eyes, mortified, and spilled: “Sergioneedsajob.”

“A job?” Stephen asked.

“Idiota!” Sergio exclaimed, burying his face in his hand, exasperated. Silvia shot him a glance.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Mr. Clark, I’m sure he can handle it on his own,” she said pointedly. Sergio sighed.

“Well, it’s none of my business, really,” Stephen said. “But I am in need of a courier.” He smiled. “And please, call me Stephen.”

Silvia grinned. “Oh, of course, Stephen,” she said. God but he was handsome. She motioned Sergio over. “Sergio, you remember Stephen Clark,” she said. Sergio gave her a look, which she chose to ignore. “Well, he may be able to help you with your bike problem.”
“What bike problem?” Sergio asked. Silvia hadn’t recalled inviting Sergio’s ego to come join the conversation but then again the two were inseparable. Do you want my help or not? she said with her eyes. Sergio squirmed, obviously undertaking a titanic battle with his pride. “Right, that bike problem,” he finally said.

“Listen, let me make this easy,” Stephen ventured. “We have a mailroom position… it’s entry-level. Courier work mostly,” he said. “Company car, good benefits, and we can start you at, hm…” Stephen pondered a moment. Silvia glanced at Sergio, who was obviously still skeptical and still wrestling with his pride.

“Fifteen an hour? Does that sound reasonable?” Stephen asked.

“That’s um… very generous of you, Mr. Clark,” Sergio replied. “I dunno if I could… but if you’re offering… and if the job’s you know… I think I could…” Silvia elbowed Sergio in the ribs. “He’ll take it,” she said, beaming. Stephen smiled and handed over a business card, explaining the orientation dates and times.

They shook hands. “Whoa, nice grip,” Stephen commented. Sergio blanched a little and loosened his handshake. “Uh, yeah… I uh… weight train?” Stephen nodded, smiling.

“Thank you, Mr. Clark… uh… Stephen,” Silvia said, beaming up at him. He turned to her. “Of course, Silvia,” he said with a gentle smile. “You know, I was about to get a bite to eat and would really enjoy your company,” he said. Silvia blushed. Sergio rolled his eyes, but kept an eye on his “little sister.”

“I’m sorry, Stephen,” she said. “Sergio and I really do have to study.” Stephen seemed a bit disappointed, but Sergio seemed pleased. “I’d love to join you for dinner another time, though. How about Friday?” she asked, turning up the wattage on her smile a bit. Stephen brightened, and Sergio seemed disgusted.

“I’d like that,” Stephen replied. “I’ll call you.”

“Of course. I’ll look forward to it.”

***********************************************
Friday came sooner than expected. Silvia stood in her room, in her robe, a towel wrapped around her wet hair like a turban. She was knee-deep in clothes, and up to her neck in indecision. The phone rang. It was Sergio.

“You ready for your date with your Yanqui boyfriend?” he asked smugly.

“Sergio, now’s not the time.”

He laughed. “Ha ha. But if I know you, I bet you still don’t know what to wear, am I right, garota?”

“Yes, you’re right,” she smiled. Exasperating as he was, he could always be counted on to get her to let go of the small stuff.

“I just wanted to tell you to have a good time,” he said. “And to remind you that if he hurts you, he’s gonna get it from me.” Silvia laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sergio,” she said.

“Good. You gonna meet me later? You know, for ‘work’?”

“I don’t know. It depends how things go, I guess,” she said, tossing yet another skirt to the floor.

“Well, I’ll be in touch,” he said. “Have fun…but not too much.”

************************************************** ************

Silvia stepped into the restaurant, a little uncertainly. She looked around for Stephen, and felt very self-conscious in her pale green halter dress. The maitre d’ looked down his nose at her. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked.

“Yes please,” she smiled. “I’m meeting someone here. “Mr. Stephen Clark.”

“Ah yes,” he said. “Right this way please.”

[Rottweiler]

Cafe Pittoresque was full on its third night of opening and Stephen couldn't have been happier. The string quartet played on in the corner as the large ornate windows overlooking Founder's Falls beautiful waterways made a breath-taking backdrop.

Stephen's newest purchase, the resturant was a welcome addition to the area, as several of the patrons mentioned upon approaching his table. He smiled generously and nodded a thank you, lifting his glass to the kind words and scanned the room a good number of times before his eyes locking onto a small, curvaceous frame of a woman draped in pale green. What a vision! he thought to himself.

He rose, barely able to stand -- was it the rough night of patrolling or just how stunning she looked, he pondered -- but managed to hide his momentary lapse of balance quite gracefully. His hand reached for the opposing chair as he beat the maitre d’ to her seat. Pulling it out a bit, he motioned.

"Here you are, 'madamoiselle'..." Stephen said, "and may I say you look spectacular." Once she was seated, he pushed her chair in and returned to his own, placing the silk napkin in his lap and straightening his suit jacket.

[Alumette]

Silvia blushed under the attention, and sat down daintily. “Thank you, Stephen,” she said coyly. The restaurant was beautiful, and Silvia took a look around, taking in its opulence and its magnificent view. Her eyes settled on Stephen, and her knees grew weak. “You look very handsome yourself,” she said smiling. The two conversed, tentatively at first, but it grew easier as the evening progressed. Silvia could feel herself being gently pulled in by his sincere charm, and his absolutely disarming sense of generosity. As wealthy and well-known as Stephen Clark was, being the CEO of such a high-profile multinational, he was surprisingly down-to-earth, and an active philanthropist.

“Excuse me a moment,” Silvia said between courses, rising to go to the powder room. “I need to touch up my lipstick.” She gracefully made her way across the dining room and disappeared into the elegantly-appointed ladies lounge. She examined her face carefully in the mirror, wincing a little as she dabbed a little more makeup on the faint bruise on her cheek. She hoped Stephen hadn’t noticed. He seemed not to have, but perhaps he was being polite. If he noticed, it would raise more questions than she really cared to answer. But Sergio had needed her help earlier that afternoon—or rather, Grande Brasil had needed Corvinha’s help—with an assignment against some rival gangs, and she couldn’t exactly tell him no; particularly considering his tendency to get himself in trouble, hotheaded as he was.

The meal was delicious. Silvia never ceased to be impressed, but mostly what impressed her was Stephen. He told her about his family, his time at Harvard, and his time in Japan. She found him fascinating. She sipped her wine and listened intently. “…so I’ve been trying to put Clark International’s resources to good use to help the city rebuild. This place,” he said, gesturing about, “I just bought, actually. Really, an acquaintance of mine encouraged me to do so. A heroine named Alumette.” Silvia’s jaw dropped, her eyes flashing with recognition. “You know her?” she asked. “Well,” Stephen began tentatively. “Only barely. She and her fiancé, Stalking Shadow, and I have crossed paths at a couple of… charity functions.” He fidgeted with his collar a bit. “She loves to cook, you know, and we got to talking, and…” he gestured idly, taking in the restaurant with a sweep of his hand.

Silvia giggled. “What a small world!” she said. “You know, Senhor Jackson is like an uncle to Sergio.”

Stephen seemed surprised. “Really? That is a small world, then,” Stephen seemed a bit uncomfortable, but Silvia didn’t seem to notice. “Do you… see them often?”

“Oh no,” Silvia said. “They’re so busy with their work. And Sergio’s dad… doesn’t really approve of heroes, so I think that makes things awkward.”

Stephen relaxed a little, and smiled. Silvia added, “My family doesn’t exactly approve of them either, but I think they do a wonderful service to our city.” Stephen’s reaction to that comment was imperceptible, although he definitely wanted a subject change.

Luckily, Silvia did too. She set her fork down daintily and dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “I don’t think I could eat another bite,” she said, smiling. “It was all so delicious!”

Stephen’s eyes sparkled. More and more, he was beginning to feel not like Stephen Clark, CEO; not like The Daring Rottweiler, but like Steve. Just Steve: a regular, charming, good-looking guy out with a charming, beautiful woman. “Sure you don’t want dessert?” he asked, baiting her. She giggled. “Wellll,” her glance flicked up to meet his, and her eyes were coy. “Split it with me?”

“That’s my girl,” he said, laughing, and motioning a waiter over. “How about we take dessert to the roof?” he asked. “Business is good, but it’s getting a little crowded for my taste.”

“That sounds delightful, Stephen,” she beamed. Stephen murmured some instructions to the waiter and rose from his chair, extending a hand towards her. “Follow me, then,” he said.

Up on the roof, the view was beautiful and the night air was crisp. Silvia shivered a little, and Stephen removed his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She pulled it about herself, catching his cologne on the air. Without his jacket, she could see more of his physique. He was deceptively better-built than he looked. She wasn’t about to complain. “You must work out, Stephen,” she said, arching a brow. “Hm? Oh… probably not as much as I should,” he said modestly, deflecting the attention. He motioned her towards a parcel of the rooftop, where a beautifully-laid table and chairs had already been set up, with dessert elegantly laid out. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “What a beautiful surprise!”

They talked and laughed with ease over dessert. Stephen told her the Japanese creation myth, and Silvia was entranced. Myths and legends were her passion; it was what got her interested in Anthropology to begin with. Before they knew it, they were talking animatedly about artifacts, ancient cultures, and myths. As it happened, Stephen was a collector of Japanese weaponry. Silvia beamed. “You know, the PCU Anthropology department has a small museum,” she said. “There’s an exhibit there from my fieldwork last summer. We should go, next weekend—“ she paused, realizing she was already asking him out on another date. Stephen smiled. Silvia caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.

“I would love to,” Stephen said. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a museum.”

“CDF,” whispered a voice nearby, barely audible. Nerd. It sounded an awful lot like Sergio. Silvia glanced about carefully but saw nothing. Maybe it was just snippets of a conversation far below, on the street.

Silvia stepped forward and took Stephen’s hands in hers. “I’m really having a good time, Stephen,” she said, doe-eyed.

There was the mumbling again, but Stephen was talking, so it was barely perceptible. “As am I,” he offered. “I’d love to go to the exhibit,” he said. “On one condition.” He smiled, pulled her close, and kissed her. Silvia melted, kissing him right back, gently.

Behind the building’s rooftop maintenance shed, Grande Brasil fumed. He made a face, disgusted to see Silvia kissing that Yanqui.

Silvia smiled. “Your condition?”

Stephen grinned. “I think that kiss met the condition,” he said. Silvia gave him a flirty look. “Really? Well, perhaps we should try it again, just to be sure,” she said, stepping closer to him. Stephen smiled and pulled her close, kissing her again.

Grande Brasil coughed. Silvia stepped back, “Did you hear something?” she asked, looking around, a little nervous. Stephen’s expression was like that of a dog listening intently to distant sounds. Merda! Grande Brasil hissed.

“Yes, I…” Stephen stepped into the middle of the rooftop, his eyes searching the darkness. Meanwhile, Grande Brasil had bounded, leapfrog style, from the rooftop down the fire escape to an adjacent building, trying to get out of sight.

Stephen was certain they were being watched, but he couldn’t let on. If Silvia found out about his superpowers, it would all be over. He weighed his options. Although she knew better than to let on, Silvia knew immediately who it was. She was furious, and oddly flattered, deep down. Not that she’d ever admit it. Still, she allowed herself a small, secret smile before her anger took over. The nerve, she thought. To spy on me during a date!

“Perhaps I’d better… get a car for us,” Stephen offered, heading back into the restaurant. When he had gone, Sivlia poked around on the rooftop for a bit. She was so worried Grande Brasil would get caught! They had agreed to keep their identities secret for a reason: most notably because their parents, in particular Sergio’s father Luiz, didn’t approve of the majority of the city’s hero infrastructure. Although, given Luiz’s past, it stood to reason. Luiz was quite a close friend of Dominic Jackson—aka Stalking Shadow.

[Alumette]

Meanwhile, Stephen had slipped through a service door and into a maintenance closet, changing on the run with ease into his Rottweiler costume, as he had countless times before. The secret identity game was so old hat to him, it was almost instinctive. He bounded out the fire escape and leapt to the opposite side of the building, where the noise had come from. He was pretty certain who he would find, and as he rounded the corner he saw…

…another hero? He blinked. “Hello,” Rottie said. Grande Brasil started and turned, his eyes growing wide under his mask. He blinked twice, playing catch-up to his situation. “Hello. What’s up, uh… dog?” he chuckled weakly. Every hero in the city practically knew who the Rottweiler was. That was hero A-List right there. Brasil, normally so glib, stammered. “Fancy meeting you here,” he managed.

Rottie looked around, “Just investigating the area,” he said. Silvia heard voices and crossed the rooftop tentatively to get a closer view. She spotted the distinctive yellow and green costume that was Grande Brasil’s, and… The Rottweiler? Her eyes grew wide.

“Well, it seems you have the area secured,” Rottweiler said authoritatively.

“Yeah, secure,” Brasil said nervously. “Not much happening.” He shuffled his feet. “Just a restaurant.”

Rottweiler turned and spotted Silvia standing before them. He nodded coolly. “Ma’am,” he said.

“I thought I saw a mugging downstairs,” Brasil began. “I came up here…t-t-to…to get a better view… of the area,” he offered, sounding as much as if he were trying to convince himself of that as anyone else. Silvia remained unexpressive.

“Well, carry on, then,” Rottweiler said, and leapt off the side of the building to continue on his crime-fighting rounds.

…or his own date, Stephen thought, slipping through the service door to change back into his civilian clothes.

Back on the roof, Silvia glanced over the edge of the building to be sure Rottie was gone, and then she whirled around, turning on Brasil. She hissed in Portuguese, “What the hell is this?”

Brasil blinked, taken off-guard by this tiny fury. “What do you mean?” Silvia’s eyes flared. “You’re spying on me!” she replied, looking around to make sure Stephen hadn’t returned to witness this. Grande Brasil gave her a hangdog look.

“Of all the…” she lowered her voice, “Sergio, I swear—“

His eyes grew soft. “Hey,” he said,. “I was just looking out for you.”

His glance shifted, focusing just past her shoulder. “Oh, hello there sir,” he said politely, in English. Silvia turned, startled. It was Stephen, saying as he approached, “The limo’s... oh my.” Silvia paled. “Um, hello,” Stephen offered.

Grande Brasil took on a stereotypical heroing posture. “Well, it looks like everything is safe here,” he said theatrically. “Grande Brasil, AWAY!” and he leapt off the side of the building and seemed to run off into the night.

“What an odd fellow,” Stephen said, glancing after him. “So, where might I drop you off?” he asked, gazing at her.

“Well, I live on campus,” she began.

*cough cough* Silva’s *ahem!* came from the fire escape. Silvia gave an inward, resigned sigh. “Actually, you can drop me off at Silva’s,” she said, with perhaps a bit more brightly than she intended.

“Silva’s?”

“I uh… left my books there,”

This time the disembodied coughing voice on the fire escape seemed to have a full-on attack of emphysema. *cough cough* Invite *wheeze* him for *hack hack cough* a drink! Grande Brasil winced, patting his chest. A spy he was not, and this fake cough was hurting his throat.

“Actually,” Silvia smiled. “Why don’t you join me for a drink?”

A smile played at Stephen’s lips. “Sounds good,” he said. “I was hoping this night wouldn’t end so soon.” It was true. He was enjoying Silvia’s company more than he probably expected to. But at the same time, his smile was a foil to keep himself from laughing. As a superhero with heightened, canine-like senses, he heard every syllable from the “asthmatic” on the fire escape, and it amused him to no end.

Grande Brasil leapt off the building and bounded through the night, as fast as he could. He was going to have to beat that limo to his dad’s bar in Independence Port in enough time to change out of his costume. Yanqui better not try anything in that limo he thought to himself as he raced towards Silva’s.

[Alumette]

Stephen held the door for her, and Silvia entered the familiar environment of Silva's bar, where she'd spent many an hour studying, hanging out with Sergio, and generally being comfortable--which was hard not to do in the very Brazilian pub. The walls were covered in Brazilian flags, memorabilia and photos of soccer players, and the like. Bossa nova music filtered through the sound system. Sergio was behind the bar, although he looked as though he'd just run a marathon. Silvia smirked. "Busy night?" she asked, hopping up onto a barstool and reaching over to kiss Sergio on both cheeks. "'Ey garota!" he smiled. "You could say that. You guys on a date or something?" Silvia nodded, playing along.

He turned to Stephen, "Hey, chefe," he grinned. "You guys want anything?" Silvia asked for a diet Coke, and Stephen followed suit. "You want ice with that?" Sergio asked, a smile playing at his lips. Silvia shook her head. "None for me, thanks," she said, giving Sergio a look that said, 'Come on, give the guy a break.' "I'll take some," Stephen said. Sergio made a face, but poured their cokes as requested, and made a caipirinha for himself.

They made small talk for some time, Sergio continually baiting Stephen--mostly about how his job at Clark Intertational was "boring." Stephen responded graciously; most likely selectively unaware that he was being baited. Sergio seemed to be sizing up his boss.

"Next weekend, Stephen and I are going to the PCU Anthropology museum!" Silvia beamed. Sergio couldn't possibly imagine a more boring, geeky date; but that was Silvia. "CDF," he teased. She shot him a glance, and then turned her attention back to her dreamy Yanqui date.

"I may have some items to donate," Stephen said casually. Sergio looked at him. "Oh, he's actually interested?"

"Yes he is," Silvia replied. "Unlike *some* people."

Sergio examined Stephen for a moment. "Wanna arm wrestle?" he asked, putting his elbow up on the bar. Silvia looked at Sergio incredulously, 'Sergio, don't,' she pleaded with her eyes. She'd been in combat with him enough during their heroing to know exactly how strong he was, and although she figured Stephen to be strong, she was certain that Sergio, with his superpowers, would beat him handily.

Stephen seemed hesitant, contemplating. Finally he put his elbow on the bar and clasped Sergio's hand. "All right," he said. "Count of three," Sergio announced. "One... Two... Three!" The two men strained against one another for a moment. An idea seemed to cross Stephen's mind briefly, but after a moment he thought better of it and let it go, and Sergio pushed Stephen's arm over with ease. "Hmmm," was all Sergio said, although he continued to gaze at Stephen, examining him.

"What an arm!" Stephen chuckled. "Guess I'll have to schedule in more gym time."

Silvia's gaze alighted on Stephen's physique. "Oh, I don't know," she smiled. "I seem to recall--" Sergio glanced at her. "Seem to recall?"

She smiled. "Oh nothing," she replied nonchalantly. Sergio continued to look at her. "What? He has nice shoulders," she countered. Sergio shrugged, and picked up a towel to wipe down the bar. After a time he bent down to grab something out of a low cabinet. Silvia took advantage of his position to pluck the lime from his caipirinha and eat it. Should've ordered one of these, she thought. She set the lime down on her bar napkin and surreptitiously swapped her coke with Sergio's caipirinha.

Sergio stood, and poured some small white orbs into a bowl, setting it on the bar. "D'you ever have Japanese peanuts?" he asked. Stephen smiled. "Oh my, I haven't had these in ages!" The three began munching on the snacks."This really takes me back," Stephen said, reminiscing. Sergio gave Silvia a small frown and swiped his caipirinha back. "Hey!" she said coquettishly. Sergio grabbed a bottle of rum and poured a splash into her coke. "Happy now?" he asked. She gave a cute little frown. "No. I wanted a caipirinha." Sergio threw his hands in the air. "Silvia, you know caipirinhas stunt your growth," he grinned.

"Yeah--like they did yours," she winked.

"Oooh! Zing!" Stephen interjected.

"Hey, if I didn't drink, I wouldn't fit into houses," Sergio said playfully. "Nothing would contain me."

"Very little contains you as it is," Silvia smirked. Sergio's exuberance was one of the things she loved most about him, as exasperating as it could be sometimes. She turned her attention to Stephen. "So how long were you in Japan, Stephen?" she asked.

"Oh, off and on during my teen years," he replied. "Dad had a little retreat there in the mountains."

Silvia's eyes sparkled at the very thought. "It sounds lovely!" she said. Stephen nodded. "It was. You know, I wonder what he did with the land. I can't believe I never thought to look into that." His cell phone rang. "Excuse me," he said, checking the number on the caller ID. "Oh, I have to take this, I'm sorry," he said. "It's our London office," he added, looking apologetically at Silvia. He answered the call and stepped out of earshot, "Stephen Clark here..."

Sergio made a face, and continued munching on peanuts. Silvia stared after Stephen, smiling a dippy, dreamy smile.

"I'm really sorry, I have to go... something's come up... work..." Stephen seemed in a hurry. Silvia smiled. "Of course, Stephen," she said. "Do what you need to do. I'll call you." She kissed him on the cheek, and he grinned, taking his leave. "Sergio, thanks for the hospitality. And someday I'll want a rematch on that arm wrestle!"

Sergio nodded. "Sure thing, Yanqui."

[Alumette]

Stephen now gone, Silvia hopped over the bar and stood near Sergio. "You're in big trouble, mister," she grinned, nosing around for the ingredients and equipment to make her own caipirinha.

"Whaaaat?" Sergio asked playfully, with mock ignorance.

"Oh please," Silvia said, rolling her eyes. "Spying on me like that." She began muddling the limes and sugar in her glass. Sergio winced, and grabbed the glass and pestle from her. "Gimme that," he said. "You don't know how to do it right." He set to work making her drink. Silvia grinned. "Well, if that's what I have to do to get you to make one for me, so be it." Sergio finished mixing the beverage and handed it to her. "I swear, Silvia. You go to all these classes all day and manage to learn absolutely nothing." She almost looked as if he had slapped her. "It's important to me, Sergio," she said quietly.

He looked at her, apologetic. "I'm teasing, is all," he said, hopping up onto the bar. "I know," she said. "I just don't understand how anyone couldn't find it fascinating." She sighed. "But, I'm a CDF, like you said."

"It's dead people, Silvia," Sergio said. "Dead people are boring."

"We look at current cultures too," she offered. "And in a way, it's kind of like knowing their spirit." Sergio gave her a look, and she instantly knew she shouldn't have said that. "I've had enough of spirits for one lifetime," he said.

Silvia put her hand on his. "You all right?" she asked. He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno. You just don't seem happy with your current... spiritual situation." Sergio blinked. "You were gonna say something else," he said.

"Actually, I wasn't. I just don't know what to call it--you and...o espirito. I mean, is it a relationship, a situation, what?"

Sergio shrugged. "It is."

"I can just tell something's bothering you. I thought it was the dreams and stuff."

"Yeah."

"Is that what it is?" Silvia hated it when he got this way. She felt so helpless, but if he wouldn't let her help, what could she do? The stone shell that formed around his body when he was fighting crime wasn't just a literal, physical thing. He had an emotional one as well. "You wanna talk about it?" she attempted, hopping up onto the bar next to him.

"How was the date?" he asked. And that would be a 'no'. she thought.

"It was fine. You saw, I don't need to tell you," she nudged him playfully, grinning. Sergio's mood was unchanged. "Well, what about the part that I missed?" he asked.

"Okay tough guy," she said. "I know how strong you are, but that doesn't mean you have to take this on by yourself." She tried to meet his gaze. Sergio just sighed and sipped his caipirinha, letting silent seconds tick by. "I'm worried about you, Sergio," Silvia said finally. Sergio munched a handful of peanuts and looked out the window.

"Fine," she said resignedly. "The part you missed. We had dinner. We talked about Japan. He told me about his father and his time at Harvard. And a beautiful legend about how the Japanese islands were created."

"Huh."

"He owns the restaurant where we were."

"So I heard."

Silvia was, for whatever reason, totally clueless to Sergio's mood. She knew he was moody, but hadn't the foggiest idea why, except that maybe his dreams were still preoccupying him. She continued on, thinking that her talk of her date would distract him from that long enough to bring his mood around.

"You know it's in the same building where Senhor Jackson and his fiancee live?" she asked.

"I noticed that."

"He ordered dessert to be taken up to the actual rooftop, so we could be alone," she said pointedly. Sergio said nothing.

"But anyway, you know the rest. Your turn."

Sergio ate some more peanuts. "What're you showing at this museum thing?" he asked. "Some of the artifacts found in my fieldwork last summer," she replied.

"Like what?"

"Well, some pottery shards, and a Raven totem," she smiled. "You know the one."

"I know," Sergio replied. "You sure that's a good idea? Having the totem there? Stuff might happen." Silvia shrugged. Sergio continued. "'Cause it's magic.You know.People come.The Thorns, or some other gang, busts in...An' whoops, stolen magic relic."

"It's not all that powerful, Sergio."

"Magic's magic."

"I don't think they'd be interested. I mean, you've seen me up against the bad guys. I suck." She shrugged. Sergio grinned at her. "Yeah, but that's you, not the juju." Silvia chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Sergio fell silent for a moment. "I need to punch something." And with that, he was seemingly suddenly in costume, and back on the street pummelling thugs.

[Alumette]

Corvinha said her goodbyes, taking leave of the band of heroes that had helped her complete her latest assignment. Fact of the matter was, she never felt terribly heroic, despite the costume and the secret identity, and the powers. She snickered to herself. Some powers, she thought. It usually took her at least 20 minutes to stop a mugging alone; inflicting blindness on a thug being one of those things that took a while to subdue a person to the point where they could be ported into city custody to await criminal proceedings. Everyone just seemed so much better at it than she was.

Still, she was grateful to have Scarecrow King there. He'd seen enough of her and Sergio together to possibly be able to help. "Hey, can we talk, Senhor King?" she asked. He nodded kindly. "I'm worried about Serg-- about Grande Brasil," she said, wincing a little. She'd forgotten she was in costume.

She levelled her gaze at him. "Promise me you won't tell anyone about... you know," she said. "Because it's a secret."

Scarecrow King shrugged. "My lips, and frontal lobe, are sealed," he said. "It was getting tiring pretending anyway," he smirked.

"I shouldn't have let that slip; although with you reading minds, you knew anyway," King nooded in agreement. "You have to swear not to tell anyone," Corvinha said, a little panicked. "Swear." King sighed, and said, "On my honor," which oddly seemed to relieve her a bit. "It's just that, our parents--his dad especially--don't approve of heroes in general. So nobody can know."

King nodded. "I see. Well, believe me, I know the value of separating work time and personal time. Now, what is it you'd like to talk about?"

He was leading her through Perez Park, along the river. It wasn't the most comfortable route, but it was quiet and secluded, and he seemed to be leading her somewhere in particular. "I'm worried about him," she began. "He's been having these dreams."

King seemed to do a double-take. "You're worried about him?" he asked.

"You sound surprised."

"I'm a bit mixed up, is all," he said. "When I met him on the way home from work he seemed upset, saying 'My boss is doing my best friend.' " King looked at her. "So there's something else going on, besides that?"

A flurry of emotions passed over Corvinha's face. She was at once shocked, appalled, flattered, and annoyed. "But Stephen and I aren't... what?" King seemed way more clueless than a mind-reader ought to be. Corvinha was still pondering what she'd just heard. "What exactly did he tell you?" she asked.

"I asked him how his day was, he said, 'My boss is doing my best friend,' and I said, 'So, a 7 out of 10?' and he said something to the effect of, 'It's just hard to wrap my brain around.' "

Corvinha just gazed at King, seemingly waiting for additional information. "I asked him how he felt about that," King added. "And he seemed uncertain. He said it could be good, depending on how it worked out." King looked at her apologetically. "At that point I decided to leave it alone. You and Sergio's relationship has always confused me," he said.

"Well that makes two of us." They rounded the riverbend and arrived at an abandoned, but surprisingly well-preserved, 1930s two-story boathouse. King seemed to know this place, and helped Corvinha up onto the dock, poking around and looking into its windows as they talked.

Corvinha sighed. "So he thinks it's a good thing that I'm doing... ? but I'm not doing... Look, it was one date."

"That hardly seems like something to get caught up over. Perhaps he's not used to seeing that aspect of you."

"What aspect?"

"You being involved with someone romantically. You two have both used the 'little sister' analogy more than once. At least he has." Corvinha bristled at the mention of the 'little sister.' It was true, they were best friends and had grown up together--but sometimes she wondered how long it would be before Sergio noticed she had curves and wore perfume.

"Even so, Sergio's in the mailroom, Stephen's in the corner office. There are a hundred bosses between the two of them. So even if I was banging... which I'm not, it wouldn't be with his boss, per se."

"D'you ever think it might be the banging more than the boss that bothers him?"

Corvinha was at the end of her rope. "THERE IS NO BANGING GOING ON HERE!!!" she shouted, stamping her foot. King held his hands up in a surrenduring gesture. "Yes, yes," he conceded. "The theoretical banging."

"Why on earth would theoretical banging bother him?"

King sighed. "Well perhaps he sees you as such the little sister that he's being overly protective." Silvia nodded. "That would be par for the course,as countless of my boyfriends will tell you."

King nodded. "Or he's jealous." Corvinha looked at him, utterly clueless. "What?"

"Of you and Stephen." Corvinha doubled over laughing.

"That's... the most... hahahaha... absurd.... HAHAahhahaHAAA... thing I've ever...hahaHAHAH!" King looked confused. "And why is that?"

Corvinha struggled to get it together, stifling chortles as she continued. "Because, as we've already said... I'm his... little sister," she grinned. "Besides, if that were the case I'm sure he would have asked me out already. It's not for lack of trying, Mr. King. That scoundrel has had since high school to make a move. I've hinted, pretty blatantly, even, and he always says the same thing," Silvia mockingly mimicked Sergio's voice. "That would be like dating my sister." She rolled her eyes.

"So, why don't you just ask him out, then?" King was getting exasperated.

Corvinha looked at him impassively. "That would be like dating my brother, Senhor King," she said. She shook her head. "Look, he's been having these dreams. Did I mention the dreams?"

"Yes, but we keep missing the subject somehow," King replied a tad bitterly.

Corvinha's phone rang. It was Sergio. "'Ey, garota!" he said cheerfully. Corvinha glanced at King. "It's Sergio," she said, her eyes brightening. King seemed more interested in the house at this point, but he was glad to help out his friends. "Invite him over," he said, and then looked at her pointedly. "Then you two can talk. I have to get this place in order anyway."

[Alumette]

Grande Brasil bounded up onto the dock of the lake house, with his usual panache. King was in the process of whispering a last bit of advice to Corvinha when he appeared.

"Hey Gringo!" he chimed. King responded in kind, "Hey, Necrophile!" This was some odd long-running joke between them, that Corv really didn't want to know about. "See?" Grande Brasil countered, "King's a putz. So what are you guys talking about?"

"Redecorating," King replied, gesturing broadly towards the house. Sergio wasn't buying it, but decided to let it go, turning his attention to Silvia, who bit her lower lip, thinking. "What is it?" King made a show of going around to the back of the house to examine the foundation and begin his preparations, if only to leave the two of them alone. "Sergio, we need to talk," Silvia began.

"What's up?" Sergio preened a bit, a little uncomfortable, seemingly interested in his costume. Silvia observed him for a moment, smiling. "You're cute, Sergio," she said.

"That's it? Tell me something I don't know," he grinned. Silvia paused. "How long have we been friends, Sergio?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "Since we were babies, practically, yes?" Sergio nodded. "Yeah."

"So, there's pretty much nothing you don't know about me, and nothing I don't know about you," she said, levelling her gaze at him. "Right?" Sergio shifted uncomfortably. "I guess so," he mumbled.

"So, firstly, I am not 'banging' Stephen," she said, smirking a little.

"I never said you were."

Silvia gave him a look that said, 'bullsh**,' and Sergio retorted, with a baiting grin, "He'da been the one banging you," he winked. Corvinha rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. "Whatever," she replied. "The point is, there's no banging happening."

Sergio put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Yet," he said. Meanwhile, King was making a great racket getting into the house to look around, before emerging to make a call on the callbox right nearby.

"Sergio, it's been ONE date!"

"Hey, sex is a healthy part of a relationship!"

Corvinha sighed. "What, you think I'm some kind of ho?"

"I'm just holding you to my standards, garota." Silvia crossed her arms and arched a brow. "Your standards?" she asked. "And what are those, exactly?"

Sergio shifted uncomfortably again. "That's not a fair question."

"If I'm being held to a standard, I should at least know what it is," she retorted. Sergio glanced out over the lake. "Is that a monster over there? I should probably go take care of it," he said, bounding out into the water. Silvia shook a fist at the heavens. "For Pete's sake, Sergio!" she said. "We're in a city FULL of heroes! Can't you let it be someone else's problem for once?"

The fact is, he couldn't. And the lake monster was about to have him for lunch, which meant she couldn't just sit by and not help. "Dammit, Sergio!" she griped. She splashed into the water and concentrated on the Corvo, her source. Wake up, you! she thought, hoping to rouse its power from within her, and not really knowing how. She was still working out her powers... but the Corvo obliged, and the lake monsters were blinded, giving Sergio the opportunity he needed to turn them into paste. He bounded back up onto the dock, grinning.

Silvia was not amused. "He looked at me funny!" Sergio offered. Silvia was about at the end of her rope. "What? Innocent lives could have been in grave danger!" he said. Silvia rolled her eyes. "You're not making this any easier," she said. Sergio rotated his shoulder a bit, feeling proud of having dispatched the lake monsters within an inch of his own safety, and looking around for more.

Silvia began to cry. Sergio couldn't stand it. He sighed, and asked, "What the hell do you want from me?"

"I want you to listen for once, instead of hiding behind your stupid bravado all the time!" she said, wiping her eyes.

"What br--?" Sergio just let it drop. "I'm sorry," he said, sitting down on the edge of the dock. Silvia nodded, trying to pull herself together. "I know," she said. "Look, there's no banging. I just wanted to make that clear." Sergio smiled a little. "I know. I'm just teasing you," he said.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know; you know, in case you, like, cared or something." She flopped down on the dock next to him. He turned to her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not important," she said, putting an arm around him. "I'm scared for you, Sergio," she said. Sergio said nothing. Silvia waited a long time in the silence. "I don't know what these dreams mean," she began, and then, hesitatingly, "...and I want you to tell me."

"What they mean?"

She shrugged. "Tell me something more than what you've been telling me."

"Relax, garota, it's only the end of the world as we know it. Everyone dreams it at least once."

Silvia looked at him, trying to understand. "Tell me something more besides, 'I have these dreams, and now I'm gonna run off and beat stuff up so I can feel in control about it.'"

"You know, maybe that's why I fight crime. Because I'm scared. Because I need to feel like I'm doing something to stop it from happening."

"Stop what from happening? How do you even know it's going to happen like that?"

"I don't have that sorta vocabulary, Corv," he said. "I can't explain it."

"How long have you had the dreams?"

"Since mom died."

Silvia looked at him. She knew his mom's death was forbidden territory. As close as they were, it wasn't something they'd ever talked about and she respected that. Silvia remembered the funeral: they were both eight years old, and she remembered somehow just knowing never to bring it up. So she never did. But the dreams, that was something else in her mind, something that scared her on Sergio's behalf. She brushed a strand of his hair back from his face. "So, you really think it means the world's gonna end?"

"Hell, I dunno... I just grew up with it, and I want it to stop."

King was making a call to the city at the callbox outside his house, to follow up on paperwork confirming his ownership of the property. Snippets of his conversation were drifting out to the pair of heroes at the end of the dock, both of whom were momentarily silent.

"...to confirm my ownership of the Everett Lake estate. Yes, I'm the legal owner...

"...No sir, Marion King is my mother. She's been deceased for several years now..."

Silvia closed her hand over Sergio's. "So I take it this means you don't want to talk about it anymore?"

"Yeah."

"How many inhabitants? Well, two, likely, in a few days. How soon can you have someone by to inspect the wiring?"

Sergio looked over his shoulder. "Two? Who's the lucky lady, gringo?"

King finished his coversation with the city and hung up the phone. "You two okay out there?" he asked. "Yeah. Fine," Silvia replied, although it was clear she wasn't.

"You didn't answer my question, gringo," Sergio teased.

"You're right, I did'nt.But it is a big place, and there's no point in me living here alone like a hermit."

"Well, duh. But you wouldn't say that unless you had someone in mind."

Corvinha's mood grew darker as their conversation progressed. Sergio was masterful at dodging important conversations, as was evidenced here. King, for his part, obviously didn't want to talk about his personal life, but Sergio was nothing if not stubborn.

"Well, no promises. I still have some calls to make. I'll introduce you sometime."

Sergio noticed Silvia's reticence and turned to look at her. "Corv?"

"What?"

"Who you trying to play as. Me?"

She turned to look at him, utterly exasperated. She gave him an epic 'talk to the hand' gesture and turned away. "Whatever, Sergio." How could he not get it? Sergio shrugged and turned back to King. "C'mon. What's her name?"

"Why would you want to know, anyhow?"

"Color me curious."

"Well, I'll invite the two of you over sometime... you can meet her face to face, when time permits."

"Christ, is a name that hard? It's a "Gretchen", isn't it?"

King grumbled, as it was becoming apparent Sergio wasn't going to let this go. "Lara."
Serio grinned, having won the battle of wills. "Was it that hard? What's she do?"

Corvinha was less enthused about the conversation, and was beginning to lose patience with Sergio. She tossed rocks into the water, trying to let off steam and decide exactly how worth it it was going to be to pick up this conversation later.

"Oh, she's in the buisness. Same as all of us."

"Oh? What's her handle?"

"You really THAT curious?"

"Relax, I haven't asked for her number yet."

"That... I would like to see. Her hero registration says Bonny Morass."

"Isn't that a place in Striga? And, you'd like to see what?"

'You ask for her number. I could use a good laugh... lighten up the mood."

Grande Brasil grinnned "That kind of gal, eh?"

"Yes, if you will."

By this point Silvia was fuming. She threw rocks into the water with a vehemence that practically radiated off of her. Sergio couldn't help but notice by now, and if he didn't, well, so much the worse for him. "Alright, I've pried enough," he said, turning back to the little raven-clad heroine next to him. "Careful there, Corv, you might kill something."

"You have no idea," she said through gritted teeth. Sergio blinked. Her anger caught him completely by surprise. :Are you alright?"

"No."

"If I asked if you wanted to talk about it, would you kick me in the nuts and say "You first"?"

"I already talked about it," she said spitefully. "Your fault you missed it." Sergio looked at her as if she had slapped him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just... can't. Not to anyone."

"Well then I suppose that answers all my other questions then.It all makes sense now, and I guess I was right all along," she said, glancing and King. Sergio blinked, trying to piece together what had gotten her so upset. "About what?" he asked, bewildered.

He looked at the glance that passed between Silvia and King and narrowed his eyes. "Have you been poisoning her mind, gringo?"

"Don't drag me into this."

"Too late. She did."

"C'mere, Rei," he said, holding a hand out to her. Silvia stepped towards him. "Look, if we're supposedly "best friends" then..."

"Then you'd respect my boundaries," he finished for her. "Just like I respect yours, if you set them."

"Whatever, I'll just accept the fact that I have to watch you hurt and just sit back and do nothing about it. It's not that I want to pry.But then don't be all mopey around me and not let me help you."

"I wasn't all mopey," he countered.

"You weren't? You're the one who brought up the dream to begin with," she said. "So either you wanted me to know or you didn't.And now every time I see you, at some point, you shut me out. So what is it? Is it the dream? Is it Stephen? Do your tights itch?"

Sergio glanced over her shoulder at King, wounded and angry. "What the hell did you say to her?"

And with that he bounded away.

“… so I dunno… give him time. He’ll come around. I think. I hope.Don't be too hard on him," Alex said, patting Corv of the shoulder. The chat with Brasil had gone less than swimmingly, but at least it was out there.

“Sooooo… what do you think of the place?”
“The house? It’s nice.”
“That’s good… I’m hoping to move in in a day or so.”
Corvinha was obviously trying to get herself together. “You need any help moving?”
“Sure… but I might have a little help on top of that.”
“Oh?”

Alex looked up at the old structure, and posed his index fingers and thumbs into the “snapshot” sign, looking through it at his future abode.

“I’m thinking of asking my partner…. CRIMEFIGHTING PARTNER… to move in with me.”

Silvia smiled. King seemed happy. And why shouldn't he be? For that matter, why shouldn't I be? Corvinha thought. She took her leave and headed back to her apartment near campus, snuck in through the back, changed from her heroing costume into her PCU Anthropology student costume, and called Stephen.