Alex entered the apartment and stopped. Something felt a little off, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Like everything had been stolen and replaced with an exact replica. He started walking slowly about the room, trying to identify the source of his unease. As he rounded the end of the sofa, the phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He let out a slow breath, dropped his bag and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Alex? It's Sarah."

Alex recognized the voice almost immediately. "Sarah! Hello, how are you?"

"I'm doing okay, Alex. You?"

"Well, I'm still trying to get used to the fact that everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road.  But otherwise I'm doing fairly well."

Sarah laughed, then continued, "So have you been back in town long?"

"Just a few weeks but they've been fairly busy, between school projects, training and a run in with a couple of nasty characters around Halloween, I've barely had time to explore my new flat -- er, apartment I should say."

Sarah sounded a little doubtful. "The last part doesn't sound too tough. How long could it take to explore an apartment?"

Alex smiled. "I'm discovering that my mother doesn't do things in a small way. It's something you'll have to see to believe. So, how about you? Anything new or just the routine pounding on evildoers?"

"Oh, man. All kinds of stuff. Along with all the boring promotional stuff I've been doing, I've been to the west coast a couple of times, landed a small role in Blur's new movie, had my application to the Protectorate turned down flat, and mixed it up with a few supervillain types, including some of the Royal Elite. Recently I've been helping Dr. Wight with those creepy serial murder cases in Pennsylvania. It's been a busy couple of months. So -- I guess you must have decided on a school and stuff..."

"Oh, Yes. I've decided to go to Juilliard. I had considered going to MIT to work on a physics degree but a recent acquaintance pointed out that I didn't have to go through all of the coursework just to satisfy an interest. Besides, music is what I'm best at. Better a great musician than a mediocre physicist."

Alex paused before continuing in a more serious tone. "About your run in with the Royal Elite -- you might want to stay well clear of them if you have the choice. I had the misfortune of running afoul of them in London. They were responsible for kidnapping a newborn child from a medical center and slaughtering the parents. I tried to stop them, but..." Autocrat gave me a stay of execution. "I was extremely fortunate to have survived myself."

Noting the slight catch in Alex's voice, Sarah's own softened. "Really? That sounds terrible..."

In an attempt to sound more cheerful, Alex says, "Well. That's enough of the doom and gloom, I think. I saw the photos they shot of you and Omega. There seemed to be a lot of traveling involved, how long did it take?"

"You know, only a few days. It was a whirlwind."

"I can imagine. It looked like you two were fairly chummy. Is he anything like they say he is in the papers?"

"Tommy? I mean, Omega? Not really. Sort of. A little. It's kind of hard to explain. He has that side where he can be a real jerk, a total egomaniac -- that's the side the papers are always playing. But he's actually also really sweet, and kind of... I don't know. Gentle or something. Anyway, enough about him. What made you decide to call?"

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose it was just an urge to speak to someone who didn't want hit me, interrogate me or demand an explanation of Mozart's musical style. Our last conversation was kind of short and being the new kid in town, I thought it might be nice to spend some time with someone in my own age group. If you like we could get together for lunch. There's a nice Italian restaurant, Baci, not too far from Juilliard. Afterwards, I could give you quick tour of the campus. It can be pretty dull unless you're really into music history and theory, so I'll try to make it as painless as possible..."

"You know, Alex, I'd really like that. How's tomorrow look for you? I'm free."

"Actually, that will work out very well for me. I have to turn in a recording of the composition I've been working on and I can meet you at Baci, it's on Amsterdam between 79th and 80th . Will noon work for you?"

"Yup, perfectly. I'll see you at noon, then. Bye!"

"Good Night."

Alex put the phone down and, whistling a light tune, headed into his studio to finish up the composition for his professor tomorrow. He listened to it all the way through, amazed at what he had done at Weaver's urging. He transferred the recording to a CD and printed out a hard copy of the music then placed it into his bag.

He headed to his room to take a shower, humming the same tune, feeling much better than he had all day. He had forgotten all about the odd feeling he'd experienced when he'd come home. He also didn't notice that his feet weren't quite making contact with the floor...

Alex spent the morning with his professor, listening to the recording of his composition. At various points, the professor paused it and asked him a few questions about the piece and would then continue. By the end of the recording, the professor was hastily scribbling some notes.

"Have you any other recordings of this, Alex?" he asked.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" replied Alex.

"I'm a little hesitant to say," he started. "This composition is astonishing. I intend to play it for a few other members of the Faculty to get their input. It's possible that you may need to prove that you are the original author of this piece."

"What?" Alex shouted. "I manage to do something a little above average and I'm accused of cheating?"

"Settle down!" he said with a placating gesture. "I'm not accusing you of anything except being talented! It's just that you're barely eighteen years old and you've turned in a composition that would take someone else decades of work to produce. There are a few egos that are going to be severely bruised by that fact. Some of them are likely to want proof that you actually did it."

Alex calmed down a bit and then asked, "What about your ego?"

The professor smiled and shrugged. "There's a saying that goes something like, 'those who can't do, teach'. I've never been much of a musical overachiever. My ego was battered enough in my youth to make it tough enough to withstand the occasional roughing up. I just wanted you to be aware of some possible fallout from what you've turned in." The older man paused and added, "I'd also like to see you to develop this into a full symphony."

"Excuse me?" said Alex, not quite believing his ears.

"It's that good, Alex. You shouldn't have any difficulty doing it. After all, Mozart was composing them as a child. Look at all the benefits you have in these times. Give it a shot."

Alex sat, a little stunned and considered what he'd said. "If I wrote it, who'd play it? Wouldn't the 'Egos That Be' have a problem with something like this?"

"I'll worry about the egos. You worry about the rest of it."

"Okay, I'll try. How long do I have?"

"As long as you need -- or three months, whichever comes first."

"Wonderful..."

Alex arrived at the restaurant at 11:30 am. It was a bit early, the restaurant wouldn't be open until noon, but he didn't want to risk missing Sarah. Promptly, at 11:55am, Sarah arrived wearing faded bluejeans, hiking shoes and a heavy, dark green fall sweater with a white turtleneck underneath. Alex almost forgot how to speak.

The two shared an awkward half-hug, neither comfortable with a handshake or a more intimate greeting. In truth, they didn't know each other well at all, but their fighting at each others' sides in the Boom Room had forged something of a bond between them. That, combined with their ages, metahumanity and general discomfort with what life had thrust upon them, gave them a lot of common ground.

"Hello! I'm glad you made it. Did you have any trouble finding it?"

Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind an ear, Sarah smiled. She looked absolutely radiant as she answered, "Nah -- my roommate knew where it was, and she gives great directions."

Alex and Sarah went inside the restaurant and were soon seated.

"The swordfish is good -- well actually, it's all good. At least the stuff I've had so far," said Alex, seeming a little nervous.

Grinning a little at Alex's accent, and at his apparent nervousness, Sarah met his eyes with her own and opened a menu. "Oh yeah? Let's have a look at what they've got."

After a moment of reading over the menu, Alex got a slightly devilish grin on his face and asked, "Do you have a preference or will you be daring and trust me to order for you?"

"Uh...," Sarah replied, a little unsure of what to say. She'd never had a guy order her food for her before. She also knew she wouldn't be able to properly pronounce most of the items on the menu. "Okay, I'll be daring. You can order for me. Something reasonably light -- I've got to work out this afternoon."

The waiter came over, an older gentleman -- probably not the owner but likely closely related to him. "Buono giorno. Cominci con il calamari. La signora avrà il primavera della pasta ed avrò il capellini con i pettini."

"Che cosa gradite bere?"

Alex grinned and answered, "Se fossi domestico, mangerei il pinot grigio, forse. Tuttavia, poiché la legge è poco un più rigoroso qui, avremo certa acqua scintillante, prego. L' oh, egualmente avremo il cannoli per il dessert."

The waiter smiled back. "Conosco che cosa significate. Dobbiamo controllare l' identificazione se sembrate più giovani di trenta. Sarò presto indietro con l' antipasto."

Watching the waiter retreat, Sarah raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Sounds like you know some Italian!"

"Oh, enough to be dangerous," said Alex. "I ordered the calamari appetizer, the capellini and scallops for myself and the pasta primavera for you -- and some cannolis for dessert." Alex grinned again and continued, "Either that or I just called his ancestry into question and he's going to be back with five of his nephews to discuss the matter in depth."

Sarah smiled back. "Wonderful. Maybe I should dial 911 now and get an ambulance put on standby. Seriously, where did you learn to speak Italian?"

Alex shrugged. "It's hard to say, really. There are a lot of operas in Italian and I traveled a bit with my parents when I was younger. I remember taking a few lessons from someone when we were in Rome, but they didn't last too long. It was the same with French, German, Greek, Russian and Latin, although with Latin it was a little more formal -- sort of a course requirement in school."

Alex paused, then hastily added, "I don't mean to sound like I'm bragging. I didn't pick them up overnight, mind you. It just didn't, well, take too much effort. The specialists say it has something to do with my musical talents. I just think they were at a loss to explain it well and it just sounded like a good explanation."

At that moment, the waiter came with the calamari and a couple of bottles of Pelligrino.

"I hope you don't mind sparkling water. A pinot gris would have gone better, I think, but I've discovered the United States has a different view regarding the legal drinking age"

"Are you serious?" asked Sarah, teasing. "You're not legal to drink yet?"

"Well, not in the states," said Alex defensively. "In the UK, I could go into any pub, order a pint and no one would think twice about it."

"Oh, I'm just teasing. Sparkling water's fine," she said, still smiling. "I'm not legal either... I just thought it was kind of funny. I mean look at you. You're not exactly a baby-faced, high school freshman. I just can't imagine anyone carding you. What are you, like six-six, six-seven?"

After a quick metric conversion, Alex replied, "I'm six-foot-eight, actually--"

"That's what I mean. You're bigger than almost every bouncer I've ever seen. You even seem taller now than you did a few months ago when we first met. What's up with that?"

Alex shrugged, a little self-conscious. "I don't know, really. I'd been going through a lot of additional testing at the Ministry -- that's the Ministry for Metahuman Affairs -- wearing exercise togs almost exclusively. By the time the tests slacked off a little over a month later, I found my clothing didn't fit so well. I mean, I'd gone through a lot of food at the time but I just figured it was all of the extra physical stuff. The docs said there wasn't anything to be worried about and that I'd probably about leveled off as far as growth spurts. Sent the tailor into fits"

"I've heard of growth spurts, but jeez." Lowering her voice a little, Sarah added, "Does it have anything to do with being a metahuman?"

"Probably," said Alex, a slight frown on his face. "The thing that bothers me is, no one can really say why. The best theory anyone's put forward is something like 'Form follows Function.' Sort of like a fish needs to breathe water so it has gills -- if it didn't, it wouldn't have them. It makes me worry a little, though. I mean, why in the world do I need to be over two meters tall?"

"Anyway," Alex continued, "I've had enough doctors and scientists poking at me to be reasonably certain I'm not going to need an entire new wardrobe -- at least not anytime soon." Alex smiled.

Her voice still low, Sarah added, "You know, it really sucks, going to the doctor and stuff when you have skin as tough as mine. Taking blood is a real ordeal, and... well, some of the other crap they do is even worse. I hate going to the doctor."

"It can be a royal pain, but I think it has a lot to do with who the doctor is." Alex paused, recalling events several years past.

"When I experienced my first real 'growth spurt,' the doctors treated me more like a curiosity than a patient. No one seemed to care much that I was in constant pain and that I was always ravenously hungry. Then, one of the doctors leaked news of my condition to the press. Owing to the tact generally displayed by the media, it often felt like I was part of a carnival sideshow."

"Ultimately, my parents found out that one of the doctors had leaked the news that 'One of Britain's Upper Crust' was a metahuman. That doctor's replacement was actually the first to treat me like a person instead of a lab rat."

"Boy, I know that feeling. I was poked and prodded for months after my strength manifested. I was like twelve. I punched a kid in my gym class in the mouth for snapping my bra strap, and broke his jaw in about ten places. He had to have it wired shut for over a year... I felt terrible. But I didn't mean to really hurt him -- I didn't know what I was capable of. I'm still sort of struggling to find the right balance, even today. Hardly a day goes by without me accidentally breaking something. I feel like a bull in a china shop a lot of the time." Sarah paused, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Anyway. What about you, Alex? When did they discover there was something different about you?"

Alex thought for a moment then answered, "It was probably when I initially started growing so much, about age fifteen. At least that's when it was confirmed. I think they began to suspect I was a metahuman when I was much younger -- about eleven or twelve -- after noticing all of the 'collateral' things I can do."

"What kinds of things?" Sarah asked.

"Well," started Alex, "I've always been good with music even as early as five or six. My parents started traveling with me when I was about eleven. That's when they noticed how quickly I pick up languages. I don't think I've ever forgotten anything that I've ever heard in my life. I mean, if I close my eyes and think, I can still recall things that I've heard as a small child. Then there's the little trick I have of being able perfectly mimic the voices of other people well, almost perfectly. Good enough to fool most people anyway."

"You're kidding, right? You mean, anyone?" challenged Sarah.

"Well, I have to have heard them at least once, but yes pretty much anyone."

"That's kinda trippy." Sarah leaned in a little and said in an almost conspiratorial tone, "Go ahead, do someone's voice."

Alex smiled and said, "Whose voice would you like to hear?"

The words were Alex's. The voice was Sarah's.

"No way! I don't really sound like that, do I?" said Sarah, not believing her ears.

Alex broke into a wide grin and said, "Pretty much. There are subtle differences but I'm probably one of the few who could tell without special equipment. I can hear a much greater range of sound than the average person and I'm a little better at picking up sounds in general. It's a neat trick and very useful for getting the school Headmaster to go an a wild goose chase."

"I can just imagine! Very cool."

"All of my other abilities manifested after I finished my initial growth spurt. Suddenly I was stronger and faster than my friends at school. I accidentally broke Gerry's leg in a football match before I had a handle on things. After that, I just concentrated on my studies. The Ministry got involved after that and the rest is history."

Sarah smiled. "We have a lot in common, you and me..."

Finishing her dessert, Sarah dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "That was delicious," she declared. "I'm really glad you invited me to lunch, Alex. It's nice just to talk with someone who... who knows what it's like. Though it sounds like you're concentrating on your studies instead of your metahuman powers. That's probably smart." Looking a bit wistful for a moment, she added, "I wish I had something like your musical ability to fall back on if this whole superheroine schtick doesn't work out."

Alex grimaced a little. "Actually, it turns out that my musical ability has a great deal to do with my metahuman powers. Since our run in with the Matrons at the Boom Room, I've discovered that the 'random' powers I've been manifesting are actually influenced by whatever music is playing at the time."

"Really? That sounds kind of cool, actually."

"Well, it certainly makes life a little more interesting." Alex frowned a little, remembering how he'd felt when that bit of knowledge had been revealed to him. Then he forced a smile and said, "I suppose that I was fortunate to have been in a club when the Matrons showed up instead of a bank or a library. The ending might not have been as happy."

"Anyway, I'm glad you could make it to lunch. I wouldn't worry too much about having nothing to 'fall back' on. From what you've told me about what you've been up to, I'd say you won't have any shortage of opportunities." Alex called the waiter over and paid the check.

After leaving the restaurant, the pair strolled casually down the street, comfortable with one another's company.

"Well, how about that tour?" said Alex.

Putting her hands in her pockets to protect against the chill in the New York November air, Sarah nodded, watching a few snow flurries fall from the sky. "Sure, I'd like that. Thanks for lunch, by the way. I'll get you next time."

"It was my pleasure." Alex grinned and added, "I had actually considered inviting you over and making lunch at my flat but I didn't feel I knew you well enough to put you through that kind of torture."

Sarah laughed. "Next time," she said warmly.

Alex and Sarah walked the few blocks to Juilliard, and Alex began to explain what the buildings were and what kinds of performances were held in them.
 

"Alice Tully Hall and Paul Hall are usually where orchestral and vocal performances are held. Over in that direction, you'll find Studio 301, the Drama and Juilliard theaters where drama performances are mostly conducted although, any of the auditoriums can be used for any purpose as required. Most of the shows put on here are free and open to the public although you still have to pick up the tickets. And over in that building--"

Suddenly, a flash of light flared up before Alex and two well-muscled men stepped seemingly out of thin air. One, an older man with silver hair tied back in a ponytail, carried an ornate staff, almost religious in appearance, that surged with sparks and nebulous energy. A scar crossed his left eye, mute testimony to the fact that he had seen -- and obviously survived -- more than one battle. His companion was equally impressive but wore a heavily embroidered cape of crimson. Golden bracers adorned his arms and his knee-high boots were gilded with gold filigree. An aura of mysticism surrounded him as he spoke in a forceful baritone voice.

"Highborn! Your presence is required. You will come with us. Now."

Alex was frozen for a moment at the title of "Highborn." It, more than anything else they could have done short of flashing a badge, identified them as members of the Royal Elite.

Turning to Sarah, Alex said, "You may want to leave while you can, Sarah. These two are from the Royal Elite and I don't think they want to invite me to tea."

Her skin prickling with the energy of the moment, Sarah unzipped her purse and kept her eyes on the two men who'd appeared in front of them. "What? No, I'll stay right here, thanks. These guys could be trouble, and you know I can handle myself."

"You will address your comments to me or to Rook, Highborn," stated the man with the cape.

Turning to the new arrivals, Alex said, "It's kind of you to ask, but I'm afraid that I'll have to decline. I've promised my friend a tour of the campus and I've only just started."

The older man with the staff spoke, his voice as hard as his appearance. "Proctor was not making a request, whelp. You are to come with us now, under your own power or not. It makes no difference to me. You can dally with the wench later, if our Lord permits."

Something in Alex snapped and he replied, "Then let me phrase it another way!"

Alex leapt at the one called Rook, diving into a roll and coming out of it to plant a kick squarely in Rook's stomach. Rook had apparently anticipated the move and did not seem overly bothered by it. His backhand to Alex did not connect solidly but it was enough to send him rolling back to where Sarah was standing.

"Damn. I'd envisioned that working out a bit better"

Pulling off her heavy green sweater, Sarah tossed it aside and slipped her titanium bracers over her knuckles. "You alright?" she asked. Seeing that her friend was, she added, "If these guys are as tough as Mastodon, we've got a real fight on our hands. Lets hope they'll listen to reason."

Stepping towards the villains, Knock-out threw back her shoulders in defiance. "You two better beat it! Alex here doesn't want anything to do with you."

Proctor moved forward, his eyes roving the curves afforded by Knock-out's tight white turtle neck appreciatively. "You're a very healthy specimen, harlot. Perhaps even healthy enough to--"

Moving with blinding speed, Knock-out crossed the distance and cut the man off mid-sentence with a solid jab meant to take him unawares. When her fist was just a few inches from Proctor's head, a force-shield materialized and met the thunderous blow, stopping it completely.

Keeping the hand he had used to summon the shield raised as he moved back out of the girl's reach, Proctor laughed. "Oh-ho, what have we here?"

Rook narrowed his good eye. "Knock-out, the whore Mastodon fought. Beware her strength."

"That's right, boys," Knock-out declared. "And I would have kicked his ass if he hadn't run away. You'll find out how bad if you stick around."

Proctor rose into the air. "Don't be ridiculous." With that, he unleashed a tremendous beam of force that struck the heroine like a truck, driving her back against a nearby building where the girl's super-tough body cracked and split the brick behind her.

Rook strode forward as Knock-out dropped to her hands and knees in a shower of dust and rubble, shaken by the blow. His staff crackled with energy as his low voice intoned, "This is your last chance to come willingly, boy..."

"Then this is my last reply, 'old man,' and I'll use small words so you can understand! Not now, Not ever!"

Alex dashed forward again, again rolling into a somersault. However, this time instead of delivering a kick he vaulted over Rook and delivered a kick to his backside. Rook, more surprised than hurt, went flying forward. He stopped his momentum by grabbing a scrambling pedestrian, then tossing the hapless man aside like a rag doll. The man landed a few yards away and didn't move. Seeing this, Alex looked about quickly and saw the potential for disaster in all of the bystanders.

"Sa -- Knock-out! We have to move this somewhere else. There are too many people --"

A large boulder slammed into Alex from behind, knocking him to the ground -- or at least that's how it felt. Proctor had risen into the air and had fired some kind of force-bolt at Alex's back. When Alex stood up, Rook was almost on him. He barely managed to get out of the way as Rook's power-staff, energy playing on its surface, swished past his head. Alex threw a right cross to the man's jaw and moved out of reach.

"Let's get out into Lincoln Center, at least we'll have a little more room to move!" Knock-out called back, finally getting back to her feet. Alex nodded agreement and started sprinting toward the plaza, trying to avoid what bystanders were left as Sarah followed along behind him, shouting a warning to the people ahead of them. "Heads up! Take cover, everyone -- supervillains! Someone call the cops!"

"Call the police?" Proctor jeered, hovering above the heads of the fleeing students. "How quaint. Yes, call the police. They'll be as powerless to stop us as you are, strumpet."

Rook unleashed a blast from his power-staff that sent Alex flying. This time he was hit a little harder and his landing wasn't as gentle as it might have been. He heard Rook approaching and knew he was in trouble.

"Enjoy the wench, Proctor. The boy has a few lessons to learn and it doesn't appear that it requires the two of us!" Rook called to his partner.

"Excellent suggestion, Rook. I'm sure there are a few things I can teach the harlot, although there may be some things she can teach me as well, yes?" said Proctor, eyeing Knock-out. The airborne villain quickly headed to the plaza after her.

Rook turned to face Alex. "You dance and run around like a little monkey, Highborn. Stand still and fight as a man!"

Alex managed to dodge as Rook tried striking him again but was unprepared for the bright flash of light when he turned around to retaliate. "That ought to slow you down a little, boy. Now for a little lesson in respecting your betters!"

Alex couldn't see anything but the afterimage from the burst of light. Still, he wasn't ready to concede. "Good. I'll wait here while you find my betters and bring them here!" Oddly enough, Alex could tell exactly where Rook was, and how fast he was approaching. He could even make out the circuitry on Rook's bionic arms. Only he wasn't seeing it. It was more like a monochrome image that he heard instead of saw.

"Insolent pup! Even now, you haven't learned to hold your tongue. Here then is Lesson, the First. Speak only when spoken to!" Rook moved in, staff blazing. Alex sidestepped and, catching his opponent off guard, landed a hard blow to Rook's lower back. Alex then moved back quickly knowing that Rook would likely recover quickly.

"Aargh!"

"Looks like class is dismissed." It seemed to Alex that the incoming "image" was "clearer" when he spoke or made some other noise. His blow to the other man had finally had some effect but now Rook knew he could still 'see'. Alex also knew that he was fighting a defensive battle and would likely lose if help didn't arrive soon. Still, the only hope he had was to keep Rook busy if only to give Sarah the chance to put down Proctor.

So he kept up his taunts and tried very hard not to become a stain on the pavement. In the back of his mind, he noted the irony that, with musically driven powers, here in one of the greatest centers of musical learning, there was not a note to be heard.

I hope that Sarah is faring better than I am...

Reaching an open area in the rapidly clearing plaza, Knock-out turned to face her opponent just in time to be smashed to the ground by a force-field shaped like a huge hammer. Picking herself up off the cracked concrete, the young heroine brushed herself off and shouted a challenge.

"You'll have to do better than that, buddy. I've had worse mosquito bites!"

"Have you, then?" Proctor asked, clenching his fist as he brought the gigantic sledge down on the girl again. Fending off the blow with crossed forearms, the powerful woman grunted but stayed on her feet. Scowling, the villain gestured and lifted his weapon for another strike. This time Knock-out met the blow with one of her own, a powerful uppercut the shattered the translucent hammer and send a shock wave rumbling across the plaza, shaking glass panes for hundreds of feet around.

"Yes, I have," Knock-out answered snidely. "Now come on down here and fight like a man!"

"My, aren't we the cocky one," Proctor smiled, gliding to land directly in front of his foe. "Come on then, girl. Demonstrate that you have the right to even address me directly."

"You got it," Knock-out declared, stepping into a punch she hoped would shut the blow-hard up. Proctor was an experienced fighter, though, and Knock-out was not. He side-stepped her punch, grabbed her arm and bent it behind her back, turning her away from him as his other arm encircled her neck. She struggled to break free, but the man's grip was like iron, and he lad leverage working on his side.

"You don't have some kind of patent on super-strength, I'm afraid," Proctor whispered, his breath hot in Knock-out's ear. The problem was that he was right -- he seemed every bit as strong as Sarah, and was a better hand-to-hand combatant to boot. Her mind racing as she struggled in his grip, Knock-out tried to think back to some of the martial arts training she'd had with the Protectorate. If only she knew some way to reverse the hold...

Enjoying the feeling of the woman moving against him, Proctor breathed, "Yes, keep struggling. It's so much sweeter when they struggle..."

Hooking her leg around one of Proctor's, Knock-out growled, "You... bastard. Get your... hands... off of me!"

Struggling to maintain his balance, Proctor was surprised by the ferocity in the girl's counterattack, and momentarily lost his grip on her arm while he stumbled to maintain his balance.

Still partially grappling with the man, Knock-out twisted around to face him and planted a solid left hand on his jaw. Proctor went down, taking the girl with him. They wrestled furiously on the ground for long seconds, neither gaining the advantage, until finally Knock-out managed to get the man onto his back, slipping over his hips and legs and mounting him to assume a position of attack. She connected with a one-two combination to the villain's face, driving his head painfully into the hard ground before pinning the dazed man's arms above his head with one hand. Had the scene not been so brutal, it would have been sexual -- but no onlooker mistook the two combatants as anything other than deadly serious about winning the fight.

"Give it up or I'll pound your face in -- and I mean it."

His eyes fluttering for a moment as the stars he'd been seeing cleared, Proctor offered a bloody grin. "You have spirit, young harlot. But you need to learn how to finish fights. Observe."

In an instant, both Proctor and Knock-out were airborne, him soaring towards the heavens and her with her legs locked around his midsection. It took only short seconds for them to reach dizzying heights, and the sharp, cold air that the heroine sucked into her lungs was considerably thinner than she was used to. Proctor clenched his hands together and raised them over his head, still rocketing the pair upwards.

"This is your stop," he shouted, striking a two-handed blow at Knock-out's stomach with all his might. Knocked free of the flying metahuman, Knock-out tumbled back towards the ground at terrifying speed.

"Oh shit...," she said simply. Listening to the wind whistle in her ears as the ground rushed up to meet her, Knock-out decided she'd look into getting a parachute put into her costume a half-second before slamming into the ground. Onlookers gasped at seeing the girl impact the now cracked pavement, and as a few came forward to check on her motionless body Proctor came gliding back to the ground.

"This wench is of no interest to any of you, insects. Begone, lest I lose patience with you."

Slowly sitting up, Knock-out echoed his sentiment. "Get out of here, people -- I'm okay."

"Are you?" Proctor asked, somehow conjuring an enormous pillar of force directly above his beautiful opponent. Before she could react, the villain used the pillar like a pile-driver, knocking her flat to the spider-webbed ground again. Three more times the pillar came down with bone-crushing force, pulverizing and crumbling more and more of the ground beneath Knock-out. When the dust settled, she wasn't moving.

"You don't seem to be 'okay' now," Proctor mused, moving over to the shallow crater that contained the body of his victim. "Such a pity," he said to the horrified crowd, who were maintaining their distance. "She'd have made a fine breeding vessel." Turning his attention back to Knock-out, he wasn't able to duck in time as a large chunk of asphalt struck him on the side of the head.

Now on her knees, Knock-out was bloodied but not seriously injured. "Not for the likes of you, you sick bastard. Not ever."

"Bitch!" Proctor howled, touching the blood that ran freely down his temple. "For this, you shall pay, and pay dearly!"

"Make me," Knock-out snarled back, her own ire rising.

Proctor reached a hand out towards his foe as she regained her feet. Nearly transparent energy bonds formed around the girl's ankles and wrists, effectively shackling her. "Yes, I shall!" he thundered, striding forward. He stopped just a few feet from the woman, who struggled ferociously with her bonds, and looked her calmly in the eye. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. "This was your doing -- I want you do remember that."

Knock-out's caustic retort was cut off when Proctor doubled her over with a tremendous punch to the mid-section, which he followed up with a bone-jarring uppercut, and then a narrow beam of concussive force perhaps a quarter inch in diameter, driven straight into her ribs. The girl reeled.

"Stop it! You're going to kill her!" a man in a business suit called out.

"Oh? Is there another hero in the crowd, then? Please, do come forward." Pulling the offending man closer with a mere gesture, Proctor smiled wickedly as the man struggled against the translucent force that carried him forward. "Now watch, Knock-out -- watch how I'll dismember this man as he would an insect in a biology lab. That analogy is not without merit, actually..."

"No!" Knock-out screamed, her face beet-red with the effort of trying to escape her bonds. When the woman reached down and strained with every ounce of her strength, cracks suddenly appeared in my mystical manacles. Another second passed and they shattered, leaving the heroine free to charge at Proctor like a runaway freight train.

He barely had time to utter, "Impossible!" when the young powerhouse laid into him with a punch like none she had ever thrown. She connected solidly, lifting the man off of his feet -- off of his feet and out of sight, well into the afternoon sky.

Breathing heavy, Knock-out checked on the man Proctor had been threatening, then immediately ran to join Alex, who was still squaring off against Rook.

Alex was a bit worse for wear. He had been landing some strong blows against Rook, but for every one that landed, Rook seemed to connect with two more. It was now getting difficult for Alex to find time to breathe and his limbs were starting to feel like spaghetti. He'd certainly have to get a replacement for his overcoat. Again.

"Alex -- one down!"

It was Sarah, approaching at a full run, looking a bit worn and bloodied herself. However, the fact that Proctor was nowhere to be seen was strong testament to the fact that she could indeed take care of herself. Still, it bothered him a great deal when Rook whirled in response to her arrival and aimed his power-staff at her.

There was no way that Alex could reach him in time to stop the blast so he tried something different.

"No Rook! The harlot's mine!" The voice was Proctor's and it came from behind Rook and a little to the left.

"Then deal with her! I have my own whelp to put down!" said Rook irritably as he turned toward -- no one! Rook glanced around quickly and could not see Proctor anywhere. He turned back just in time to see Knock-out's fist.

Rook went flying back and slammed hard into a building behind him.

Approaching Alex, Sarah, with a note of concern edging her voice, asked, "Are you alright?"

"I've been better, but it's nothing a good night's sleep won't patch up. How about you?" answered Alex, a little winded.

"Nothing serious -- and I'm a quick healer." Sarah saw Rook regain his feet and turned to face him. Alex followed suit and put a little distance between himself and his friend. The two closed the distance on Rook steadily and Alex got the distinct impression that the man did not like the odds that he was now facing.

Alex did a cartwheel that finished with a hard kick aimed at Rook's midsection. Rook blocked it but left himself open to another attack from Knock-out. Again, the villain went flying. Alex and Sarah closed in once more.

"This is more like it," the busty blonde smiled, punching her fist into her palm in anticipation.

"You may consider your 'invitation' effectively declined, old man," said Alex as Rook regained his feet.

"How brave you are, now that you have a woman to protect you," replied Rook acidly.

"Yeah, almost as brave as you," interjected Sarah. "Does it always take two 'Highborn' idiots to kidnap someone or were you just feeling your age today? You should have brought someone tougher to help you. Proctor is somewhere over Cleveland about now."

As if on cue, Proctor flew in, screaming toward the spot where Sarah and Alex faced Rook.

"Where is she?" he shouted. Blood ran freely from his mouth and nose, and both of his eyes were blackened. "Where is the bitch who dared to -- You! You will scream for months before I deign to kill you!"

Cursing, Sarah prepared to take on Proctor again but was interrupted when a beam of searing light slammed into the raging villain.

"Federal Agents! Surrender and prepare to be taken into custody!"

Two Draughtsmen, clad in white armor, had appeared on the scene. Proctor prepared to attack the new arrivals but Rook placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Another time, Proctor. We'd likely prevail against them but how long before the Protectorate arrives?" Proctor appeared about to argue but Rook continued. "This is but the first battle. There will be others."

"You will see the light soon, Highborn," Rook said, turning to Alex.

"And so will you, harlot," said Proctor to Sarah. "I promise that."

And then Rook smashed his staff on the ground, causing the pair to vanish in a flash of light.

"Sod off," replied Alex as the afterglow from the pair faded. "One of these days, I'm going to learn how they do that..."

There were the expected interviews with the authorities who arrived on the scene. Amazingly enough, no bystanders were seriously injured, and, although there was some damage to the buildings and flagstones in the plaza, the collateral damage was minimal. After a little over an hour, Alex and Sarah were free to go.

"I wanted to thank you for your help. Not everyone would be willing to endure that much abuse to help someone else," said Alex quietly. "And the Royal Elite are not your garden variety threat. It may not be too healthy to be near me in the foreseeable future." Alex made an attempt to adjust his overcoat so it wouldn't fall from his shoulders. After several attempts, he realized it had taken too much damage and abandoned the effort.

"Really, Alex, it wasn't a big deal. I'd expect you to do the same for me. And remember -- this is my job. I'm supposed to take on creeps like those guys. To fight evil and right wrongs and all that. Tell you what, though," she added with a grin, "I hope something like this doesn't happen every time we see each other. It'll get old, fast. And I can't afford to keep buying new clothes!"

Noting the rips and tears in Sarah's clothing, Alex added, "Your outfit seems to have taken a good deal of abuse. I don't live too far from here. I'm certain I have a sweatshirt that will fit you if you'd like to put on something warmer. I could call a cab for you from there if you like."

Looking down at the holes in the knees of her jeans, her blown-out leather shoes and the large rips in her lamb's wool turtleneck, Sarah nodded. "Sure, if you don't mind, that'd really be cool."

As the pair set off for Alex's apartment, Sarah smirked a bit to herself, as though she was thinking of something amusing.

"What?" Alex asked. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," Sarah said, still smiling. "Well, it's just that -- say, you don't have a costume or uniform or anything, do you? Since you're not really in the superhero business, I mean."

"Costume? Oh, dear Lord, no", Alex replied, much as if someone had offered him a chocolate covered sardine. "It was bad enough when the Ministry tagged me with my code name. One of the technicians tried to get me to wear a costume but it looked so absurd that I couldn't stop laughing. I've always preferred to wear my pajamas at night when I sleep."

"Code name? You have a code name? What is it?" asked Sarah with a slight gleam of mischief.

"Something very silly. I'm sure I don't want to bore you with it--"

"Chicken! Come on, fess up," Sarah chided.

"I'm not chicken. I just think that it's a waste of--"

"Oh, come on! If it's that insignificant, what's the big deal?"

"Oh, all right," relented Alex. "It's Maestro," he said as though he'd just eaten a lemon.

"Maestro?! Ow, that is bad," the attractive girl laughed out loud.

"Why did you ask about a costume?" said Alex in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

"Well, I've been using this special, super-durable fiber in some of my clothes lately... maybe you could look into it for your next jacket. I got into a couple of scrapes without my costume -- which is made of this stuff, which is how I know about it -- and ended up half-naked at the end of the fight because my clothes can't stand up to a tenth the punishment that I can. Anyway, I've been experimenting with using the fiber in some of my regular clothes lately. Today was a good test, actually."

Looking at the girl's nearly destroyed attire, Alex was about to enquire about what she meant when she went ahead and answered in advance.

"My, uh... knickers... are made of the stuff. My idea, actually. This fiber really is pricey, so I can't afford to make like whole evening gowns out of it or anything. But it's affordable in small quantities, and I figured having bullet-proof undies is better than nothing at all. It certainly saved me some embarrassment today. The whole front of my sweater got torn open when I fell, but my brassiere was fine. Pretty cool." Making a face, Sarah added, "I hope I'm not offending your good English sensibilities with all this talk about skivvies."

"I think my sensibilities will survive intact, somehow," he replied dryly although his face did redden slightly. "It does sound like a good idea though. Can you put me in touch with the person who makes it?"

"Sure, no problem," Sarah answered, noting Alex's embarrassment. "So, how far is it to this giant apartment I'm hearing so much about?"

"Oh, it's right over--" Alex slowed down, looked around a little, then stopped, a confused expression creeping onto his face. "You know? I don't think I've ever been in this neighborhood before..." A couple of heartbeats later, Alex grinned and said, "Just kidding. It's a block up and two over."

"Why you--" Sarah swatted at Alex as he ducked and skipped ahead a few steps.

Sarah noticed that the neighborhood looked to have been a small industrial section at some point in the past. The buildings seemed to have a slightly run-down appearance but the streets were still fairly clean. The windows of the buildings were mostly blacked out but none seemed to be broken.

Alex indicated a two- or three-storey building across the street and the two headed over to the door. Alex fumbled for his keys in what was left of his coat pocket. What he extracted was a small jumbled mass of twisted metal.

"Oh, good grief... Oh well, not to worry. This apparently wasn't an unforeseen circumstance." Sarah watched Alex reach over to a place beside the door and open a brick -- actually, a small door that was disguised to look like one of the surrounding bricks. He punched in a code and the two were rewarded with the sound of a soft click as the door unlocked.

"Apparently?" Sarah inquired.

Alex sighed. "Yes. I'm not sure who was responsible for the design of the place but it had to have been more than one person. I've been constantly discovering new things about my place. When I first arrived here there was a note letting me know a few of the essentials, but little else. I honestly wish they had remembered to supply an owner's manual. Would you like to use the stairs or the elevator?"

"Oh, the elevator, I think. It's been that kind of day."

Alex and Sarah bypassed the staircase and headed toward the end of the hall. There was a keypad at the side of the elevator door and again, Alex punched in his code. The door opened and they were rewarded with the sight of a freight elevator.

"How far up does it go?" she asked.

"Only to the next floor," he replied. "The place has a high ceiling for most of the length of it. Except for a sort of 'mini-storey' that's built inside of it."

"A 'mini-storey?' Is this some kind of weird, British architectural term?" teased Sarah.

"You'll have to see it and then let me know if you know the proper name for it. It's a lot different than anything I've lived in so far. Oh, I almost forgot," Alex said suddenly. "I haven't had the chance to do any serious cleaning--" Noting the wry look on Sarah's face, he hastily added, "I mean, there aren't any 'unmentionables' strewn about, I just meant that I haven't gotten around to doing any dusting or anything."

Sarah chuckled. "No biggie. I'm sure you've got better things to do than spend all your time dusting. This place looks huge!"

At that point the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid back. To the left side of the elevator doors was a potted plant. A coat rack stood to the right. The elevator itself opened onto a large room with a kitchen and dining area to the left and a living room to the right. Farther across the room, about seventy or eighty feet away, was another door that opened onto Alex's studio. The main doorway was on the wall to the right, just before that. There was apparently more to the place judging from the hallway that went around the corner of the kitchen but Sarah couldn't see it from where she stood.

"Holy crap!" she exclaimed, looking around excitedly. "Uh, excuse me, but this place is just awesome! It's huge!"

"Thank you," replied Alex as he ushered Sarah into the room and closed the elevator door. He cleared his throat and said, "Let me get those sweats for you. I'll just be a moment." Alex headed right from the elevator toward the corner of the room. He pushed lightly on a section of the wall that turned out to be a doorway. And disappeared. A few moments later, Alex came back down with a bundle of clothes.

"Jeez -- what's with the secret doorways and stuff?" Sarah grinned. "Is this like your hideout?"

Alex smiled back. "It does seem a little overdone, doesn't it? This is one of those discoveries I was speaking of earlier. When I first arrived I unpacked all of my stuff and stowed in it what I thought was my new bedroom. It turned out to be the guest bedroom. I was actually leaning on that section of wall while moving a couple of trunks and I almost fell in. I discovered a small stairway leading to the next floor, the 'mini-story'. It took quite a while to get everything put away into my real bedroom.

Handing the bundle to Sarah, Alex continued, "Anyway, these will probably be a little large on you but it's the only thing likely to have a chance at fitting. Here, come this way."

Alex led Sarah around the corner of the kitchen. The short hallway opened onto what looked like a miniature gym, complete with an exercise mat and wall length mirror. Some of the equipment was fairly modern and looked to be designed for someone with metahuman abilities. The rest looked like it could have been found in any exercise facility that had existed for the last eighty years.

There were also two other doors located on the left side of the room, one led to a moderate sized bathroom and the other led to a bedroom. Alex led Sarah to the door of the bedroom, saying, "You can change in here. Feel free to use the shower, if you'd like. You should find everything you need." Grimacing at the condition of his own clothing, "I'll go clean up a bit myself. I shouldn't be longer than ten or fifteen minutes."

"Okay. Thanks again, Alex. This is really sweet of you -- and I think I'll take you up on that shower." Sarah hummed softly to herself as she undressed, made sure the coast was clear, then stepped into the shower. Sighing as she felt the hot spray wash off the day's worries and grime, the young woman tenderly touched some of her injuries, thankful that most of them would be completely healed in a couple of hours.

Wearing only the sweatshirt Alex had given her -- for it covered the girl to mid-thigh -- Sarah made her way back out into the apartment's main room, her wet hair tied into a simple pony-tail to keep it under control. She found Alex in the kitchen, slicing cheese at a counter while an open bottle of wine breathed nearby. He had changed into some sweats himself, his own hair was neatly combed but, being wet, it was evident that it was longer than it had appeared earlier.

"Whoa, Maestro," she joked, "what's all this, then?"

"Just a snack," Alex answered without looking up. "And please -- don't call me Maestro. It's bad enough hearing it at the Ministry."

Coming to stand next to the tall young man, Sarah apologized. "Sorry, Alex. I was just kidding with you, but I should know better -- I hate it when people like reporters call me Knock-out when I'm not in costume."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap," he said putting down the knife and reaching for two wine glasses. "It's just that every time I hear 'Maestro,' I half expect someone from the Ministry to show up and present me with tuxedo-style tights." Alex poured wine into both glasses and turned to present one to Sarah -- and nearly dropped it.

He immediately noticed what she was wearing, or more accurately, not wearing, his eyes quickly drawn to Sarah's long, tanned and muscular legs. Alex gave a little cough and attempted to cover for staring, and, noting her bare feet, quickly said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I should have grabbed a pair of socks for you, the floors are probably freezing."

Sarah accepted the glass and said, "That's okay, really. I'm actually pretty comfortable." Alex picked up the platter with the sliced cheese on it and then his own glass.

Stealing a slice of cheese off of the platter, Sarah strolled out into the middle of the enormous apartment. "You have the coolest pad of anyone I know, Alex -- and my roommate knows some pretty hip cats. This place is the bomb!"

"Thanks, I only wish I could take credit for it," said Alex. "I was actually expecting something a bit more modest, maybe a small one bedroom flat. When I'd decided to attend Juilliard, I had only packed a fraction of my things. Mother insisted that I pack everything. Now I now why."

Seeing the fireplace against one wall, Sarah's eyes lit up as she walked towards it. "Oh, Alex... can we light a fire?! I haven't relaxed in front of a fire for forever..."

"Certainly! Allow me" Alex walked over to the fireplace, a half-round, gas unit that came out from the wall. Raising one hand over the hearth, he chanted in a tone almost like a benediction, "Nunc habeamus calorem."

Nothing happened.

Alex shrugged and said, "I didn't think that would work. Guess I'll just have to flip the switch." With that, he reached over to the wall and flipped a switch. The fireplace responded by producing a good-sized display of blue and orange flames.

"You nut!" Sarah said, chuckling. "Do you put on performances like this for all of your guests?" Sarah took a seat in a large, comfortable chair next to the fireplace.

Alex gave a little laugh and said, "Ask me again in a few months. You're the first person that I've had over since I moved in." Taking a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace, Alex set the platter of cheese and the bottle of wine on the coffee table and took a sip from his glass.

Her feet up on a footstool near the fire, Sarah grinned broadly as she nibbled at a piece of cheese and sipped her glass of red wine. The orange flames from the fire played over the tanned, taut skin on her legs, and the girl's muscles flexed as she shifted position in the big, cushy chair she'd nestled herself into. "Man," she breathed, "this is just idyllic. I'd never leave the house if I were you."

"It's an appealing thought," started Alex, "but I'd eventually get bored by myself, even after I finished exploring this place. Besides," he finished, smiling, "Baci doesn't deliver."

Finishing her first glass of wine, Sarah looked serious for a moment as she changed the subject. "So... what are you planning on doing about these Royal Elite guys? It doesn't sound like they're about to give up on you. And what's this Highborn stuff they're going on about? Have you talked to the Protectorate about any of this?"

Alex frowned. He'd almost forgotten about them. "I don't know, exactly. I'm still not really sure what it is they want with me. Today was only the second time I've encountered them. The first was in London like I'd said before. A group called the Yeomen had attacked a medical center there. Despite my best efforts, they kidnapped a baby and slaughtered both the parents and the surrogate mother. I suppose technically they aren't members of the Royal Elite, just henchmen or soldiers or something.

Alex drew a slow breath before continuing. "They were just about to hand me my head, literally, when the leader of the Royal Elite, Autocrat, showed up and told them not to harm me. Just like that, they stopped. One of them, Pellinore, temporarily petrified me. By the time I 'thawed out,' they were gone along with the child."

Alex took a drink from his glass and continued. "As far as the 'Highborn' thing, the philosophy of the Royal Elite says that metahumans are naturally superior to the rest of humanity and that those metahumans of 'noble' blood are destined to rule over everyone -- human and metahuman -- whether they like it or not. After today, I think that they may be trying to recruit me or something." Finishing his glass of wine, Alex ate a few bites of cheese, then reached for the bottle on the coffee table.

"I haven't really sought help because I thought the incident in London was isolated somehow, that I wouldn't have to worry about them again. That no longer seems to be the case. Maybe consulting the Protectorate isn't such a bad idea."

"I'd definitely look into it if I were you. Maybe there's some way you could signal them or something in an emergency. There's no way you can stand up to those guys by yourself if they keep coming after you." With a wink, she added, "It's not like I'll always be around to save your butt..."

"No?" Alex returned with mock surprise. "Well then. I guess I'll just have to make provisions for back-up back-side coverage for those times when you're not there."

Alex re-filled Sarah's glass and then his own.

Sarah shifted in the chair again, stretching and enjoying the warmth from the fire. Alex tried not to notice that the sweatshirt she was wearing had begun to creep higher up her thighs.

"I've been meaning to ask you," said Sarah, changing the subject, "what kind of music you're studying. I mean is it all classical or can you pick and choose?"

Alex smiled, glad to talk about something else. "Well, it's mostly classical but there is a fair amount of latitude when it comes to other types of music. I could even add more dance or drama courses than are already required, although I don't think I'm likely to do that."

"Oh? How come?" asked Sarah.

"Too many instances where I'd have to wear tights," replied Alex dryly.

Sarah looked at Alex momentarily, then smiled and said, "I don't know. What do you have against tights? I think you might look good in tights. When did you say you had to take those dance classes, again?"

"Wonderful"

"What is it you actually study? Do you write, play an instrument, sing?" Sarah smiled, imagining Alex on stage, singing an opera and wearing some kind of Viking costume.

"What's so funny?" asked Alex.

"Never mind, just answer the question," she replied, trying to maintain a straight face.

Arching an eyebrow, Alex said, "A little of everything, actually. I just turned in a piano piece that I just finished writing. The professor wants me to develop it into a full symphony."

"Wow," Sarah commented, not understanding the weight of the statement. "Do you have a favorite kind of music?" she asked.

"Not really, I pretty much enjoy all of it, although I don't care much for yodeling. How about you?" replied Alex.
 

"Oh, I listen to a little bit of everything. For dancing, I like club music. The new Fatboy Slim album is pretty cool, I have to say. It's got this groovy vibe... I like most pop, and blues as well. Some country is okay. I don't know much about classical music. Or jazz. And super-heavy stuff turns me right off."

Turning to look over her shoulder, Sarah asked, "Can you show me your studio? I haven't had much opportunity to see one in use."

Alex thought for a moment and said, "Sure, why not." He stood up and offered Sarah a hand in doing the same. "I know from experience that chair can just about swallow a person whole."

"Yeah -- it's very comfortable!"

Alex and Sarah walked over to the studio and Alex flipped a few switches on the wall, just inside the door. A couple of lights went on and the musician started explaining how the sound boards worked, how the DAT player could be used and a variety of other tools used for recording.

Sarah noted the various instruments lined up on one wall and said, "This is kind of scary. Can you play all of these things?"

"Well, music is largely a subjective art form," Alex replied. "The audience is usually the one who determines if the musician can actually play or not."

"Okay," said Sarah, recognizing her cue to make the request, "Play something. Start with the guitar."

"As my Lady commands," replied Alex.

Alex began playing a tune on the guitar that started simply and slowly and got more complex as it progressed. Sarah marveled at the way Alex was able to make it sound as if more than one musician was playing. After ten minutes, Alex finished and Sarah applauded.

"That was amazing! How long have you been playing the guitar?"

"Just about as long as I've been walking, I think. To hear my mother speak, you'd think I emerged from the womb with a tin whistle in my hands. Are there any other requests?"

"How about an official tour of this place. I mean, I've seen the guest bedroom and all, but that exercise room or gym or whatever looks pretty intense."

As Alex began the 'tour' neither of them paid much attention to the sun sinking slowly outside the windows...

A long while later, Alex and Sarah had returned to the fireplace, where the young blonde sat and listened to a full hour of the Englishman's guitar compositions. He was currently playing a beautiful, moving piece, and Sarah closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. Alex played solemnly, his hands moving like magic over the strings of his guitar.

The pair had played around a bit in the gym, and Sarah had been very impressed with her tall host's physical prowess. Even without music, Alex's metahuman abilities were notable. After that, they'd toured the rest of the flat, including the 'mini-story' which was largely the master suite.

Sarah discovered that, beyond the concealed door was a spiral staircase that led to the next level. Here, there was a small entry room with a writing desk and a couple of chairs. Through an open arch was Alex's bedroom with a couple of armoires. Off of the bedroom was another bath with a large Jacuzzi tub and a separate shower. By that time, Sarah's feet were starting to feel the chill from the floor and Alex picked out a pair of wool socks for her to put on.

They spent more time in the studio and cracked open a second bottle of wine. The relaxed, comfortable connection Sarah and Alex felt with each other grew as they spent more time together -- time away from the pressures of parents, of Ministries, of the press, of being metahuman. Instead, they were simply two young adults getting to know one another.

Sarah, sitting on the sofa beside her guitar-playing friend, had her wool-socked feet tucked up underneath her rear-end. When the song ended, she opened her eyes and beamed a smile at Alex. "That was so beautiful! It's no wonder you're concentrating on your music." Looking at Alex intently, the girl's vivid blue eyes glowed in the firelight as she added, "You're like a total musical genius, aren't you..."

"I suppose so, although I've never really thought about myself that way. Mother was always very careful to avoid treating me like I was the next Mozart. I remember overhearing my first piano teacher mentioning the word 'prodigy' when he spoke to her after my first lesson." Alex smiled and continued, "I remember asking her what 'prodigy' meant. She said, 'it means you're a little better with music than some people -- but not as good at eating your veggies.'"

Shaking his head to clear the memory, Alex asked, "What would you like to hear next? Any requests?"

"Yes," Sarah breathed quietly, taking the instrument and gently placing it on the floor. Throwing one leg over the surprised young Brit, she straddled him on the sofa and whispered, "kiss me."

Sarah had been waiting for Alex to make a move for nearly an hour now, and had finally taken matters into her own hands. Their kiss was gentle and awkward, and ended with both of them giggling slightly when they parted lips.

"What?" Sarah asked softly. When Alex shrugged and smiled, she kissed him again, this time with more passion. Long minutes passed that found the two teen-aged metahumans kissing, tentatively exploring one another's bodies. Sarah fumbled with her sweatshirt for a moment, trying to begin taking it off without breaking away from Alex. When she finally had to in order to pull it over her head, the young man beneath her had his breath catch in his throat. Sarah's perfectly sculpted body was truly something to behold, like something Alex had only see in the movies. Her bra and panties glittered ever-so-slightly in the firelight, likely due, he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, to the fiber she'd gone on about earlier.

Biting her lower lip slightly, Sarah took Alex's large hands in her own and placed them on her ribs. Moving his hands upwards towards the swells of her breasts, she started to say, "Do you have anything we can--" but was startled and interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. It took a few seconds for Sarah to realize it was her cell, ringing in her purse. Frowning at the man she still straddled, she cursed silently. "I have to get that -- there might be some kind of emergency..."

"Oh yes, of course," Alex returned, a little flustered and still very much unable to believe his eyes.

Sarah picked up her phone, answered, "Hello," and immediately wandered into the kitchen.

"Yes," she said, followed by, "uh-huh. At Alex's place. Yes. Yes. Yes. Alright... That's right. You're right. Talk to you soon. Bye-bye" Hanging up and dropping the phone back into her bag, the half-naked girl came back over to the couch, where she found Alex lying, completely unmoved, where she'd left him. His hair was hilariously tangled on top of his head, and he almost looked a bit stunned. Happy, but stunned.

"It was my roommate. Nothing serious." Seeing the state Alex was in, Sarah smiled as she sat back down on the sofa, asking, "Are you alright? You kind of look a little shell-shocked..."

Alex returned the smile and said, "That's probably as accurate a description as I'd likely come up with on my own. I'm fine, actually. A little surprised -- actually, very surprised. Not that I'm complaining, mind you," he quickly added. "I've just never, uh... well, you know."

"You know what?" Sarah replied, picking up the sweatshirt off the floor to put it on, "It's probably good we were interrupted. We shouldn't take this too fast. I had a wonderful time today, and really want to see you again, but I should probably get going." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "Can you call me that cab?"

Alex sighed and smiled although he was a little disappointed. "I very much enjoyed being with you as well. And I think you're right. Going too fast would likely end in disaster."

Alex got to his feet -- slowly -- and headed toward his phone. Alex looked back at Sarah and said with a serious look on his face, "If it's true that the best things in life are worth waiting for, I could easily see myself waiting for you for a very long time. Let me call that cab."

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