Dan's kitchen had an understandable dearth of cups. It was a desert, devoid of silverware. There wasn't a plate in sight. Neither pots nor pans made this place their home. These things hadn't exactly been Dan's priority when packing, and though he felt that this was completely justified, Dan still endeavored to correct it. Well, for a certain value of 'correct'.

He took a trip to Abby's house, and stole some of her coffee cups. It was all in the name of love, of course. Dan's faithful little coffee machine churned out a batch of Abby's brand-name brew, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of roasted beans. The smell drifted into the closest vent, and was distributed throughout the house. It was mere minutes before Dan heard footsteps coming from above him. He took up a position by the bottom of the stairs, by the entrance to his living room.

Abby appeared at the top of the staircase, bleary-eyed and beautiful. Her dark hair messily framed a pale face still half asleep. She almost always favored a ponytail, but for now it hung in long tresses, tangling wildly across her shoulders and down her back. She wore what might generously pass for pajamas: form-hugging yoga shorts that showed enough leg to stop a man's heart, and a slim cotton tee that rode up past her belly when she stretched. She was stunning, and her beauty was only slightly offset by her zombie-like shambling down the stairs.

She staggered to a stop in front of Dan, blinking at him in visible confusion. A confused jumble of words fell out of her mouth, "Mrglefrgle," as she pawed at the cup in his hand. He dutifully handed over the coffee, and escorted his delirious girlfriend to the closest couch. She sunk down into the soft leather, took a sip of her coffee, and groaned in pleasure.

Dan patted her on the head like an obedient puppy, then shuffled back into the kitchen. It would be some time before she became a human again. Once again, Dan looted her house for supplies, snatching a pack of bacon, and some frozen sausages. The skillet was next to be abducted. He would definitely return it, but only after he washed the thing. For now, it served as an adequate cooking implement. Abby would definitely forgive some light pillaging, so long as she was properly fed.

Bacon sizzled and hissed and popped, crisping nicely beside their thicker cousins. The sausage was easier to manage, simply needing a few minutes of heat before being ready. Dan made one last trip, scoring silverware and plates, before laying out a feast on the counter between the kitchen and living room. It was protein, protein, and more protein. A glass of milk finished the ensemble. Abby wasn't picky, but she certainly had her preferences.

The slowly waking girl followed the smell of food to the counter top, one hand still clutching her mug of coffee. Her shambling gait had evened out, most likely out of concern of spilling the beverage. Dan sat her down on the nearest chair, sliding a plate in front of her. She stared down at it, starry-eyed, and Dan took advantage of her distraction to refill her coffee.

She fell upon the food like a ravenous wolf, devouring his offerings as if there was a chance that the pork would grow its legs back and flee. Dan sat back and watched, occasionally picking at his own breakfast. It was fascinating to watch energy returning to Abby's frame in real time. Morning was her mightiest enemy, and only a healthy application of meat and caffeine could turn the tide in her favor. As the food vanished, her skin seemed to brighten and regain its color. Blood flowed, rising from its torpor, and she slowly came to life.

Her plate lay empty. She leaned back against the chair, letting out a happy sigh that ended in a burp. Dan snorted, his reaction rousing Abby from her state of bliss. She jolted in place, facing him with a flustered gaze.

"You heard nothing," she informed him primly. Dan could only nod and grin. She side-eyed him imperiously, as she gulped down the last of her milk. The cup clinked against the counter, and she faced him once more. "Your friends are coming over this afternoon."

It took Dan several moments to process her statement, with this time spent forcing a placid expression on his face. A line of milk hugged the upper border of Abby's lips, but Dan refused to laugh.

And then he recounted her words.

"What?" he asked succinctly.

Abby's head tilted to the side. "Your friends? Gregoir, Connor, and Freya? They're coming over later for your house party." Her hair fell across her face as she spoke, getting into her mouth. She blew out the strands with an annoyed huff, and ran her hands through her thick locks. With a practiced motion, she pulled it taught, dragging her hair into a long ponytail. She glanced around the kitchen with a frown, and Dan took a moment to blink back into his bedroom. He arrived back at her side, with a pink scrunchie in hand.

"My hero," Abby drawled, paying for the hair tie with a kiss. She looped it through her hair, before dropping her hands back to the counter. "Anyway, yeah. They'll be coming by this afternoon."

"For my house party," Dan repeated.

She nodded. "Yuh-huh. You deserve one, so you're getting one."

"Was this supposed to be a secret house party?" It'd been a long while since Dan had someone doing things for him just because they wanted to.

"Eh." Abby held her hand out, flat, then wiggled it side to side. "I meant to tell you about it last night, but other things came up."

Dan smiled fondly at the memory of those other things.

"Mind out of the gutter, Newman!" Abby barked, smacking him lightly on the chest. "We've got a lot to do, today. Your house is, like, woefully unequipped for habitation. You need dishes, and silverware, and food—" She stopped, glancing down at her plate. "Where'd you get all this stuff?"

"I think there's a secret room beneath my house," Dan stated immediately. Better to tear of the bandage right away. No need to put off the conversation. Abby needed to know. Yup. That was definitely the reason why he brought this up, now.

She blinked at the sudden shift in subject. "Excuse me?"

"I was practicing my Dandar this morning—"

"Please don't call it that," Abby interrupted with her palm over her face.

"Practicing with my Dandar," Dan emphasized loudly, "and when I started checking the foundations of the house, I found a big ol' open space beneath us."

Abby frowned, puzzling over his words. "It could just be a natural formation? Maybe a cave? That's something that happens, right?" Her brow furrowed. "Gotta be honest, babe, I've got no idea how the ground works."

"The space was lined with what I'm pretty sure is steel," Dan added.

"Oh." She paused. "I think I know enough to say that that's probably not normal."

"Probably," Dan agreed.

The conversation briefly paused, as they both considered the implications. Abby twirled a loose bang around her finger, gnawing slightly at her lip.

"So what do you wanna do?" she asked.

He wanted to jump into it. The impulse had been almost overwhelming, earlier in the morning. To test out his limits. To satisfy his curiosity. To reaffirm himself that his power could keep him safe. It was a stupid, tempting idea, and only the thought of Abby throttling him kept it at bay.

"We should probably check it out," he hedged awkwardly. "I mean... it's better to know, right?"

Abby pursed her lips. She leaned forward, placing both arms on the counter, elbows tucked against her sides. Her foot bounced up and down against the floor. "I suppose so," she eventually said. Her eyes met his. "Did you have a plan on finding it?"

Dan stood up, motioning with his hand for Abby to follow him. They wandered slowly out of the kitchen, past the living room, stopping beneath the staircase by the front door. Dan walked a slow circle of the room, slowly releasing his veil. Out and in, out and in. Like a muscle, he stretched it before heavy use.

"I couldn't map out the whole area," Dan told the waiting Abby. "I covered most of the east and north sides from the back lawn, but I should have an easier time if I try again from here. I'll look for where the space connects with the house, and we'll go see if we can find a way in from here."

"A way in," Abby repeated.

He nodded. "Sure. It's not like you'd build an area like that without a way in. Unless you were like me, I guess." Which was unlikely. Captain Quantum, the former owner of the house, was by all accounts a minor electrokinetic.

"I see." Abby stared at him seriously. "Just so we're clear: is your theory that the former owner, the ex-vigilante, built some kind of secret base beneath the house?"

"Seems reasonable," Dan stated, offering her a shrug. "Why? Do you have a better explanation?"

"This is really the sort of thing that you should call the police for," Abby offered instead.

Dan rolled his eyes. As if he'd rat out a perfectly good secret base. Knowing the APD's stance on vigilantes, they'd probably seize the damn house. He liked this house. It was his house. And he was sure that the previous owner would have been happy knowing that his hard work wasn't wasted. Assuming Dan was correct.

"You're taking this way too lightly, Danny," Abby chided, a hint of anger in her voice. "You've got no idea what this is. If you're right, and it was built by a vigilante, then it's probably filled with all kinds of nasty traps. Those people are crazy, y'know?"

"Pretty sure that's... not racist, but some sort of ist. Classist?" Dan hummed to himself consideringly as he extended his veil into the ground. "Probably classist."

"I'm not kidding around, Danny," Abby exclaimed, stomping her foot angrily. The wood groaned at the blow, warping slightly. Dan stared at the minor impact crater, before frowning at Abby's worried expression.

No, not worried. Afraid. She was scared for him. For what he might do, or what might happen to him. It was as inconceivable as it was unacceptable. Once again, Dan realized just how different their perspectives were on vigilantes. He had barely even considered the dangers of the situation. Of course the base would be booby trapped. Of course it was dangerous. This wasn't a television show, Captain Quantum wasn't Batman, and there was no such thing as a no-kill policy in this world.

Dan slowly walked towards his girlfriend, paying only minor attention to the growing web of his veil. As they closed in, Dan wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Okay," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I'll be careful. I'll take it seriously."

He felt her nod into his shoulder. "You better."

Maybe it would be better to just call the police. Dan didn't want to, everything in him rebelled at the thought, but it was almost certainly the smart thing to do. The safe thing to do. He closed his eyes, frustration mounting. Curiosity wasn't a good enough reason to endanger his life. He knew this.

His veil continued to stretch downwards, despite Dan's conflicted thoughts. Deeper and deeper it went, wider and wider it spread. Concrete and rebar and steel and stone. Sand and gravel and dirt. And then—

Open space.

Dan opened his eyes.

"I found a way in."