Antonia was, in fact, livid when I demanded forty-five thousand dollars to activate the concoctions. She seemed a little more mollified, however, when I informed her that I expected a receipt from a local homeless shelter in the amount of twenty-five grand rather than cash. I also added a cellphone, anonymous cash card, and Serve-Mart gift card for 200 dollars to my demands, which I guess confused her.

I sighed. “Look, I have two pairs of underpants, Three tee shirts, nothing to work out in but a pair of cargo shorts, my shoes are crap, I don’t have any real workout gear or practice pads, or even a pair of boxing gloves. I cannot afford even the supplements I used to be able to afford to work for the Home workshop. I have a cash card I am not going to try to explain that I used to buy dinner last night and I cannot reload, no phone, and I cannot even afford to take a girl out on a date. If you aren’t going to even give me the slightest chance to get laid, I might as well head back to my cell right now, because of the crap I have to put up with, the threats on my life, and the sheer amount of work I am putting in for nothing just aren’t worth it.”

The Defender HQ had a pretty decent lab set-up that I had been using to assemble my concoctions, and I left them in a coolbox, hoping no one was stupid enough to try to consume them without being catalyzed. At the very least, they would get a nasty stomachache and probably a trip to the hospital.

I changed in the restroom and went down to the training room that Grace had assured me was fully set up. My workout gear as it was involved being shirtless, and wearing the aforementioned cargo pants and crappy sandals. I even brought my own box of wet wipes.

I attracted a little bit of an audience. Aquantis, Miss Katonic, and Speedburn had all apparently stuck around, as well as a guy named, of all things, Catoblepas who had the ability to turn his breath into sand, and another girl named Darkling who had one of the cooler abilities I had found, she could stick to and manipulate her own shadow, using it as a weapon, tool, and even as a way to climb up buildings. Her costume was considerably less risque than some, black tights and a hoodie with a sort of badly-sewn outline of what I guessed was supposed to be a person on the back in gold thread, and a black mask that probably started life in a paintball arena, with air holes over her mouth that only exposed her eyes. She had nice eyes and very nice legs, but hoodies are not exactly form-fitting.

When I arrived in the weight room, Cato-whatever was already running on one of the treadmills, which was a heavy-duty affair with massive padding at the front and rear. I had no idea how fast it could run, but based on the padding it was intended to train speedsters. There were some free weights with truly ridiculous masses on them, and a machine for lifting even heavier weights that had the weight cables run into the ground and were modified electronically.

A few minutes later scary girl and Aquantis joined us, Katonic wearing sweats and a basic bandanna to cover her mouth, and Aquantis wearing a brilliantly blue sports top and highrise shorts that barely nodded at propriety. I realized that Baldwin had been right, Aquantis was acting like a gym bunny, not really exercising hard but making sure she was showing off her toned tummy and flexibility every time I glanced in her direction. I watched appreciatively for a bit as I wrapped my hands in tape, and she smiled at me, definitely gym bunny.

Miss Katonic was a little more serious. She clearly was planning on working out, but when Speedburn showed up she spotted him on one of the treadmills as I started to test my newfound might on machines designed to give even a meta a decent workout.

I worked out as a way to relax, and center myself, and I seemed to always think more clearly when I was pressing myself. Aquantis was a distraction, so I ignored her while I tested my limits using the electronic weights.

1600 lbs seemed to be my cap on deadlifts, and I felt that I could improve. That really impressed the crap out of me, since it was nearly half again Hall’s world record. I wasn’t close to as big as he was, but the man spent almost every waking moment training, and I wasn’t close to as dedicated as he was.

Free weights were my love, though, and as I set up a nice, round, 1000-pound bench, good enough for a workout but not enough to require a spotter, I noticed a pair of breasts over the top of the bar.

Normally I don’t stare at boobs, but Aquantis was positioned just right for them to be in the middle of my field of view as I got ready to lift the bar. They were quite an impressive pair, trapped by the sports top, but they were sort of in my way. I was in workout mode, and it wasn’t the first time I had to push a pair of Gym Bunny breasts out of my workout space. “Excuse me,” I said politely.

“Hey Alchemyst. I noticed that you look like you could use a spotter.”

I shook my head, “It’s Louis. I appreciate the offer, but you aren’t superstrong, and while your body may look amazing, it’s not really designed for spotting a thousand pounds.” I wrapped my hands around the bar, thick woven titanium that bent very little even with 500 pounds on each end.

Aquantis apparently decided that I was a bit stupid not noticing her assets rather than pressing, and decided a more blunt approach might be needed. She said, “You are probably right. But I could certainly help you work out later if you like. Are you staying here tonight? I would be happy to help you in your room with sit-ups or maybe lots of… push-ups?”

I chuckled, normally Jim would have found some way to dissuade a girl like this from messing with a workout since press time was sacred. Lots of guys regularly hooked up with Gym bunnies, but that was what the aerobic and snack machines were for. Some bikers and runners considered cardio time sacred, but that was on their own route. A stationary bike or treadmill was social time.

I noticed that both of the agents were there, and were doing absolutely nothing to dissuade the young lady. Baldwin wore a look of amusement, but if Antonia had laser eyes, Aquantis would have already been cut to steaming pieces. Baldwin was right, I really needed to nip that in the bud.

I shrugged, my shoulders starting to stick a little against the leather-coated bench. “Sweety, you are breaking rule one of gym etiquette. Lifting time is alone time. You are irresistible, and I would be happy to discuss naked personal training with you some other time, but I haven’t had good lifting equipment in over three years, and I haven’t had sex in over five. If I am thinking about finding out where you don’t have scales with my tongue or trying to work out with an erection, I am going to break my fool neck.” I said, loudly enough that most of the gym could probably hear me.

Mollified and looking a little embarrassed, She took a step back. “Seriously? Five years?”

I nodded, “Yep.” while I made sure I had a good grip on the bar, lifting it and performing a slow rep to get a feel for it. It wasn’t too bad, so I kept talking. “My family died so I was messed up for a while, too messed up to look for a girlfriend, and then I got to spend some quality time in prison. The sex available there wasn’t the kind of sex I wanted, so it was easier just to do without.”

I started doing fast reps. It wasn’t too bad, but I was starting to build a decent sweat as I worked. I wondered, though, if Ballclub would spot for me at some time? I’d love to improve my weight. Gym time was thinking time, and stressing physically allowed me to relax and de-stress mentally. I also slept better after physically exhausting myself.

“I am sorry for your loss. Five years, though, seems like a long time.” she had a hint of a Spanish accent, which was kind of cute, but she was still distracting. Free weights required concentration, so after three sets of twenty, I finally gave up and replaced the rack.

I started cleaning up the bench and bar with my wipes, and replied, “It is.” considering that the free weights I was using were in 250-pound increments, resetting the bar and replacing the weights was not much of a chore. “I had a girlfriend once, but it didn’t last too long. I am sort of picky and prefer thinking about the long haul, so we wound up having the talk way too early.”

“The talk?” she asked, curiously, while I moved back to the machine. Setting up the weight was easier, but less satisfying. I glanced questioningly at Baldwin again, and he just grinned at me. Fucker.

I nodded, trying to get a rhythm despite this girl messing with my groove. “You know, the talk. Was it going anywhere, did we love each other, did she want kids as much as I did, How did she feel about handcuffs, paddles, and a collar. That talk.” I said, hoping that would turn her attention away.

Dammit. I could see her nipples stiffen right through her top and she nodded, “Right, THAT talk. How early was it?” she asked, her eyes drifting back down to my chest and lower for a moment but then shifting back up to my face. I was grimacing a little, starting to pant a bit as I did chest builders.

I was at my top weight, so it wasn’t more than five reps before I let myself rest. I probably should have stopped at three, but that endurance boost seemed to keep me going past the point where I should stop. My chest muscles ached a little as I replied, “Our third date.”

She nodded understandingly and made an effort to look like she was exercising, moving to a rowing machine and setting it to a rather strong setting. She wasn’t super-strong, but she definitely was fit, and it looked like she did the work. They had the machines too close together, though, as she was still in comfortable conversation distance no matter where on the electronic weight machine I was. I started another set when the strain in my chest eased.

“How much time was that? And were you at least naked when you talked about it?” she asked, smiling at me. As she worked the leg presses I noticed that her scales sparkled, kind of a cool effect and thankfully distracting from watching her bouncing as she pressed.

I shook my head, “About two weeks. I hadn’t really started lifting yet, so I was just grateful she wanted to go out on more than one date. I was stupid and got all emotional and stuff.” I was ignoring her question about the clothing. It was a little embarrassing, but she’d let me feel her up while we were making out and I had thought I was in love. Fortunately, I hadn’t told her I was in love with her, but asking about it was way too much.

I was curling when I added, “I dated a girl from work, too, but that never really went anywhere.” Brandi had never gone anywhere because I was fucked in the head from my family dying, and just wanted company and human contact, not sex. At the time I know she would have been more than willing, and probably would have been fine with a booty call right up until I got kidnapped, but I wasn’t cool with it.

She raised her eyebrow, watching me as I started another set, and worked her legs on the machine. “Was it bad?” she asked. I wondered why she was asking so many relationship questions since it was fairly obvious she was looking for fun, not a future marriage prospect. I had answered them because even I knew that talking about prior relationships was the number one way to bore or irritate a girl that would otherwise be interested in you.

I shook my head, noticing that my shaggy hair flicked a little moisture. I was going to have to clean up more than usual with my sweating. “No, it just wasn’t good timing. I mean, I am a redhead fanatic, and she was definitely a redhead, so it wasn’t like physical or anything, I just couldn’t get interested in letting things go any further at the time.” I said, hoping that the confession would put her off a little. Still, she was starting to grow on me a little, and she was easy on the eyes and reasonably easy to talk to. I wasn’t going to throw her on her belly over the rowing machine, and I didn’t appreciate her manipulating behavior earlier, but once she stopped throwing herself at me I could converse and work out without too many problems.

She laughed a little, and I saw her hair shift to a brilliant red. It didn’t look natural, more like the sort of dye job that South American girls often liked, but then I noticed odd colors shifting across her skin almost like patterns in the sand, and for a moment her skin was as pale as my own, before her hair flipped back to black and her skin resumed its prior shade.

“Chromatophores, like an octopus. I am not a real shapeshifter, That would make me at least a class D, but I can shapeshift in minor ways, small body changes, hair and skin color, that kind of thing.” she giggled a little, “I generally pick an appearance I want and stick with it for a while, but I didn’t want to register, because DMA would have stuck me into long-term undercover work. I’d rather do it short-term and kick ass as a vigilante than be stuck for months or years in some asshole’s lair or a foreign government office.”

I nodded, more interested as I switched to a different part of the machine that required powered crunches. I was starting to want this girl, a little, and power crunches would reduce that need. It was my secret recipe for not getting dragged around by my dick, and so far it had worked. I had seen ‘camouflage’ when I had analyzed her, but I had assumed it was something like that alien hunter movie, where she could be mostly invisible if she moved slowly or held still.

“I can see that. I have done that. Being stuck like that sucks in the long term. I spent way too much time pretending to be a criminal myself. I don’t think I would want to do the superhero thing, though. I like people well enough, as a group, and I like helping them individually, like my concoctions, but I don’t actually like socializing with most people on a one-on-one basis. I kind of have a pretty low tolerance for stupidity and bullshit, and most people seem to thrive on it.”

Aquantis, also known as Mariah Lopez, stopped rowing. “Oh. You noticed the thing with Bronzium and Max? I figured you saw that, and that’s when you stopped looking, that’s why I came down to catch your attention. When you started working I thought you were just trying to brush me off or maybe you were gay.”

My impression of her went up a notch. I thought she was simply unobservant of my desire for privacy while I worked, but apparently she was better at catching nuance than I was, which was normal for most people. “Yeah, but I was serious about Gym protocol. In most serious gyms, you can talk and hook up and flirt when you are on cardio or the bags, but the weights are off-limits. It’s almost like a religion, and any real trainers will shoo you off if they catch you playing around on the weights, or god forbid, CrossFit.” I stood up from the crunches, feeling the burn in my tummy and thighs, and felt a little more in control as I cleaned the machine. It always works.

It had been almost an hour, but this Gym was pretty great for doing a max slam. I moved over to one of the treadmills and didn’t mind too much that I was still in talking distance now that the weights were done. I could have pushed harder for more groups, but it had been a while, and I needed to work up slowly to lifting some real heavy shit.

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t realize that. Most of the Gyms I go to are kind of noisy and aerobics and classes are much more popular than the weights. I am not sure about what you mean about CrossFit, though. I have seen lots of people doing it.”

I nodded, “That’s not a Gym, that’s a fitness club. Gyms have punching bags, a place to fight, and generally stink like angry men lifting weights. Fitness clubs have sensitive, helpful teachers, dance aerobics classes, and a lot more out-of-shape people that have memberships but never show up. Crossfit is just a way to wind up in traction trying to show off or not take the time to work decent exercises. But yeah, I sort of noticed them spinning their wheels.” I got going on the treadmill, finding a comfortable pace at about twenty miles per hour. It felt a little thuddy, though, which was normal for a stationary track, so I upped the incline to about five percent which eased out the stompiness.

She smiled a little, “Well, okay, fitness clubs. I change my appearance pretty regularly, but some stuff, like my water adaptation and sometimes my costume, stays the same. Both of them have seen me in different looks often enough to recognize me, and that seems to make some guys oddly possessive. Plus Bronzium jumped in front of some bullets for me once. It was cute, but I have both regeneration and enhanced endurance which was why I wasn’t worried about a Mac-10, those little bullets hurt but I was more concerned with the guy with the high-powered rifle at the time.”

She was done with her rowing, which, when you weren’t specifically trying to grow muscle groups, tended to provide a pretty good workout. She didn’t have super strength more than most metahumans, but almost all of them had some measure of extra physical ability. It was fun to watch her towel herself off while she watched me run, though. Aesthetically pleasing, the sweat both made her sparkle more and proved she had been serious about working out.

She shrugged, “Both of them like to act like they are my boyfriend, even though Bronzium is married and Max… well, Let’s just say Max is convinced he is a lot hotter than he is. He’s not bad-looking and gets quite a few girls as long as he doesn’t talk much, but getting him to shut up when he opens his mouth is not an easy feat. He kinda loves the words well actually way too much to be healthy, you know?”

I nodded, “I do know. I kinda used to do that a lot too. Eventually, I realized that in the end, people don’t like being corrected, and it’s just arrogance to do it. I mean, if someone really cared about the etymology of the word ‘neither’ or the correct words to a particular quote, a cellphone and the net are just seconds away. If someone does something stupid and uses a misquote to justify it, I figure If it’s not worth fighting for, it’s not worth wasting your time on.”

She smiled at me broadly. “That’s right. And both of them hover around, convinced they are my next boyfriend or have to rescue me, and I get so tired of it. I know it’s a little evil of me, but sometimes I just have to flirt with them till they are snarling at each other like dogs fighting over a bone.”

I set the speed down to a comfortable ten miles an hour and no slope and started doing a cooling-down jog. “So now I have to ask. Were you serious about going back to my bedroom?”

She shook her head, blushing. “No, I know you are in a hotel, and I think one of the agents sleeps in the room with you. I was just wondering if you were attracted and kind of wanted to see what kind of excuse you’d come up with. I know my swimming outfit is a little racy, but I wore it both times like my costume. The first time was because I knew I’d see a lot of Meta guys, and dating normal guys can get a little weird, and the second time was because I thought you were cute and thought you hadn’t noticed me. Before I was awakened, I wasn’t noticed much, and I liked getting noticed, but when you were in the room you just acted like I was another number, did your thing, and said ‘next’ like I was at the DMV.”

She blushed again, “When you talked about getting hard, I almost stomped off, but then I realized I was sorta doing the slut thing and you were just acting like it. You are nice though.”

I smiled, “You are nicer than I expected also. Where are you from, Brazil?” I asked her as I finally turned off the treadmill and started wiping myself off.

She shook her head. “No, Spain. My parents moved here when I was six. They wanted me to learn English right away, but my Abuelita insisted I only speak Spanish until I was almost eight years old. I can hide my accent, I have had voice training and can fake a lot of accents, but when I don’t think about it sort of comes back.”

I nodded, “I was born in Alabama. I grew up on the East coast, but when I go back to Alabama inside of a day I have a twang like a banjo.” I grinned, “Maybe sometime you’d like to go boot-scootin' wearing yourself some redneck camouflage.”

She looked at me archly, and then said in a drawl that sounded straight out of Gone with the Wind, “Why mistuh McCarthy, are you askin’ me out on a date?”

I nodded, “Quite possibly, Miss Lop...Aquantis.” at her startled expression, I added, “Perhaps we would enjoy a conversation about children, paddles, and collars.” I whispered to her and was rewarded with another blush, and then smiled at her before heading towards the showers.

We got back to the Hotel at about 11 at night, and I earnestly hoped none of the Defenders decided to try sleeping at the big, bold, target. Except maybe Max Hardcore, with a name like that, I doubted too many people would miss him. Vigilantes, as a rule, tended to be rather nocturnal, so I assumed that any hardcases that hit the place tonight would be in for a bad time.

Agent Andropolis had come through, getting a packet from a special courier containing a cash card with a twenty grand limit, burner phone pre-loaded, a receipt from the O’Hare Abused women’s shelter, and no less than three gift cards. Serve-Mart for two hundred dollars, the Men’s big and tall for five hundred dollars, and the Shoe Wearhouse for another three hundred and fifty dollars. It wasn’t exactly what I had asked for, but it showed a surprising level of thoughtfulness for a faceless government bureaucracy.

I had been hoping that the donation would go to a men’s shelter because abused women’s shelters got a lot more donations, but I understood full well that when a woman needed to be hidden from the abuse it was generally a lot more time-critical. Men’s shelters needed more funding in the wintertime. The temperatures in Chicago winters could become murderous and more male homeless had to come in off the streets to survive the nights. Most men’s shelters were so overcrowded that they had to be turned away because men on the streets outnumbered women about five to one, but maybe I’d have more to donate when winter rolled around.

The draughts and the pill were distributed as I activated them, and surprisingly, I didn’t lose my sense of taste. I think it might have been due to the gift card demand causing extra inconvenience for someone, but while it was a little frightening that I could dump that much sacrifice off on someone, it added to my appreciation for the work. I provided Blackhawk with an Elixir if he decided to use it, and he disappeared it without another word after I warned him that it would be completely useless to anyone but him.

I appreciated dinner, picked up at Denise’, a lot more than the third-rate sit-down food deserved, mostly because I hadn’t expected to taste it. Antonia wasn’t exactly giving me the silent treatment, but she was being utterly cool and professional and answering any questions in a curt and to-the-point manner using as few words as possible. She didn’t order just a salad, but she just wound up eating three hamburgers instead. Baldwin, as usual, was the first one to point out the elephant in the room.

“Dude, 5 years? Seriously?” He asked over dessert.

I grinned, “I have things to hold over your head now, So I will admit it. Before the accident, I was one of those guys that girls look at and start seriously considering joining a convent. I went all through high school without a girlfriend, and even in college I never went farther than a third base. I kind of looked like a cross between a Weasely and a vulture, and I was an arrogant fuck that used to start every conversation by explaining why whoever I was talking to was factually incorrect.”

Both of his eyebrows were raised. “Wait, you mean you are…”

I nodded and said, “Yup.”

“Wait, seriously? You are a goddamned virgin? Like Arnie in that twins movie? Holy crap. You are a total innocent.” He started grinning.

I shrugged and looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, and before you start trying to tease too much, I will remind you of our time frame conversation.”

Baldwin nodded at me, “Yeah, I get it. I was kinda surprised about Aquantis, though. You seem to sort of come off as a puritan, and she was… not. After she rested her tits on your barbell I thought you might swing at her.”

Antonia chose the moment to make her own observation. “I thought that after you said you were going to lick her every place she doesn’t have scales, that she was going to kick you in the balls. I wasn’t going to interfere, since she doesn’t have super strength and you’d heal, but I couldn’t hear anything after that. I guess you talked your way out of having to pee through your nose, though.”

I chuckled, “I said I was thinking about it, and mostly it was to try and offend her into leaving me alone. She was violating my weight space, which is a big no-no, and one I am betting she doesn’t repeat. I take my worship at the altar of metal seriously, as do most guys that work out. The only exception is your spotter, and even that’s not welcome unless he’s cussing you out for being a pussy or giving you a stress warning.”

Antonia looked a little confused. “You welcome being called a pussy?” She asked.

I nodded, “Well, not exactly welcome, but have you ever wondered why drill sergeants cuss out recruits? When you are mad, you build adrenaline, which helps you press harder and keep going longer when you are on the wheel of pain. A guy that’s sitting there cussing you out and acting like you are his bitch leads to better gains.”

Antonia nodded, “Oh, they did that in training. I thought it was to teach you to deal with abuse and keep going, make you want to quit so they can weed out the quitters and build up the willpower of those who remain.”

I chuckled, “It’s that too, but once you get to a certain point, it doesn’t make you feel bad, it just makes you mad, and mad leads to strength. Hell, once you lift regularly, you can dump everything into your workout and feel much better afterward. Sadness, Pain, anger, and even depression can be fuel for the wheel.”

“Why do you call it the wheel of Pain?”

I sighed. Uncultured philistine. Ignorant hick. I let Baldwin explain the second greatest movie of all time to the unwashed savage, lifting my nose in the air and sniffing affectedly.

“Crush your enemies. See zem driven before you, and hear ze lamentations of ze livestock.”

“Are you sure you got that line right?” Baldwin snickered.

I nodded, “Conan had an Austrian accent. I had to correct the saying for historical accuracy.”