=== Kari ===

“What do you normally do to clear your head?”

“I . . . Um . . . Well, I go out on patrol. The cool night air, flying through the city. Being able to get away for a while helps a lot. Knowing that I'm not stuck somewhere.”

“And you've been here for a week,” Suiren said, thoughtfully. “I-is that why you flew me up in the air?”

“Yeah, kind of. I just wanted out. And I didn't know about the fear of heights thing.” She blanched at the thought.

“It's pretty scary. I don't know how you do it,” she said, shivering.

“I guess it's just because it's something I'm doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know that I have it under control. I've been flying for years. It's as natural as breathing or eating to me. Easy peasy. I imagine it'd be pretty scary if someone was doing that to me. Especially if I wasn't expecting it.”

“That was scary, but not the scariest part of it.”

“What was the scariest part?”

“How fast you got up there. I blinked and we were up a few stories. It . . .” Suiren paused and shook her head.

“What?”

“It reminded me of something.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She looked out at the nearby buildings, considering. “It's just something I have to get over.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“I . . . Uh . . .”

“What if we took you flying under more controlled circumstances? Not too high. You'd have all of the power. You say stop, we stop?”

“Y-you would do that for me?”

“Yeah, if you want,” I said beaming. “It'd be the best of both worlds. You get used to heights or whatever and I get to fly again. With company. Flying is always better with company.”

“Where would we go?”

“To get ice cream?”

“Is our food not good enough?”

“It's mostly rice and fish. I want something sweet.”

“O-okay, I think that would be okay. When do you want to do it?”

“Right now is fine with me.”

“S-sure.” Suiren sounded unsure.

“Great. I'll be right back.”

“Where're you going?”

“To change. I need to make sure the girls don't come out.”

“Girls?”

“Uh . . . Give it a couple of years. You'll understand,” I said, then charged off. In a moment I was in the room they had given me. I changed into my super outfit and charged back. She frowned at me and walked up.

“Why do you wear that?”

“Because I want to. It lets people know that I'm a superhero. That I'm here to help.”

“Okay. But why do you show your stomach?”

“I like my stomach. I worked hard for these abs. And besides. It's not like I need armor.”

“I-I guess.”

“You ready?” I asked. She nodded, shaking a little. “How do you want to do this? You can sit on my back or I could carry you.”

“Uh . . . I think . . . I'll sit on your back.” I laid down on my stomach and she sat on my back. I pulled her up so that her feet were around my neck. I started floating and then pushed off gently. We went about five miles per hour. It was agonizingly slow, by my standards, but I could feel her clutch my cape and she yelped. I grabbed her feet and took it a little slower. We cleared the top-floor terrace. I started floating down slowly. I could feel her shaking against me. I called out.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Y-yeah. This is okay . . .” I kept my pace and we eventually got down just above the ground. “Y-you can go a little faster. I-if you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Just a little, though.”

“Okay.” I charged forward a little bit. We hit ten miles an hour. She yelped and clutched at me further. I didn't let go of her legs for an instant, just using enough force to make sure she didn't fall off. We flew around for a while and eventually she calmed down.

“How fast do you normally fly?”

“Depends,” I said noncommittally.

“On what?”

“Where I am. In the city, I fly at maybe a hundred miles an hour. More if I think I need it. Anywhere less populated, I go as fast as I can.”

“How fast is that?”

“Mach 8, I'm told.”

“Whoa. How fast is that?”

“Almost three-thousand meters-per-second.”

“I can't even imagine that.”

“Yeah, it's really fast.”

“How do you make sure you don't hit anything?”

“Oh, I can see really far and react pretty quickly. When I'm not under pressure.”

“And if you're under pressure?”

“I get confused. Don't always make the best decisions, then, obviously.” We continued flying until we got to my favorite ice cream spot. We landed and she did an honest-to-God back-flip off of me and landed perfectly. I took my wallet out of my belt pouch and we ordered a couple of scoops and sat in a booth, just enjoying our snack. Three men with guns burst through the door and fired out at some other people outside. One slammed the door and grabbed a chair and braced it against the door. Another went over to the cashier and grabbed him, pulling him forward and putting him into a headlock with one arm, and holding a gun to the poor teen's head. I stood up and so did Suiren. She had pulled out a sword made of bamboo with a spinning flourish.

“Evening, boys,” I said easily.

“S-Smash Gal? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was getting ice cream, when three terrible men interrupted me.” I saw Suiren in the corner of my eye. She darted forward and bashed the one with the cashier in the skull and he went down. The two others peered at her. They raised their guns and fired. I blasted off of my spot and scooped her into my arms. The bullets bounced off of me and fell lifelessly to the ground. I set the girl down and turned, but she was already running past me. She dodged the next flurry of bullets by jumping on the tables. She was fast. For a regular person. She jumped and slammed her sword down on the clenched hand of one of the gunmen. I counted four strikes and she was past him. She had managed to do the dramatic Samurai movie thing, the man flinching after she hit him and then he collapsed. Unfortunately, the other one was still standing. He raised his gun, after changing the clip during her attack. I leaped forward and slammed a fist into the back of his neck. It was a love tap, but he still crumpled to the floor in a lump.

“That was really impressive, Sui.”

“Sui?”

“I was trying out a nickname. Do you not like it? I figure it's either Sui or Ren.”

“Isn't Sui what farmers say to their pigs?”

“Oh, I guess it does sound like 'soowee', huh?”

“Yeah, I guess you could call me Ren if you like.”

“Ren! That was really impressive. Though you should've let me handle it.”

“Those guys were very undisciplined. Their aim was bad too. I was fine.”

“This time. But still. I don't want you to get hurt.” Cops came rushing in afterwards. The cashier, looking like a deer-in-the-headlights, had mindlessly unlocked the door and slumped against the wall. “Well, let's get back.”

“Yeah.” I let Ren climb on my back and we flew back. We got all the way up to thirty miles an hour this time.

=== Cindi ===

I was scrolling through some cheap ballroom mask options. I realized that a lot of our friends would not want to be associated publicly with the criminal power couple. I thought this was an elegant middle ground. People could choose between a couple of mask types and wear them. Which had spurned on a bunch of other ideas. We were going to have a masquerade-themed wedding. I hadn't had time to tell Curt, yet, since he had gone off to handle something or another in Avalare. I looked down at the time. He had been gone for a while now. Well, if anything had happened, he'd have called. I continued looking through options. I figured we'd need a type of mask for men, women, and those who defied the binary, like Des. Something simple for all of them that wouldn't clash with their clothes. I lost myself in this again, trying to figure it out when I got a call. It was from Des.

“Hey, Des. Wha-”

“Curt's been arrested!”

“What!?” I demanded, jumping to my feet.

“Curt's been arrested!” Des repeated, their voice strained. “He got into a fight with Thunderblast and lost. Hard.”

“Thunderblast?” I hadn't heard the name. I usually made it a point to know the meta-hero types, in case they became a problem, but between the bomb and the fight with Smash Gal and Professor Mind, we had been so busy, I hadn't kept up on everything.

“He's a new hero. He controls electricity.”

“Why didn't he just pop away?”

“How the hell should I know!?” Des screeched into the phone. They were really scared for Curt. Which made sense. They weren't a part of this life. Or rather, they wouldn't be if Curt had stayed away. “What're we going to do?”

“Let me think. Where did they take him?”

“There's footage of him being walked into the station. Looked like the precinct off of 63rd and Main.”

“When?”

“I just saw it. I don't know. Oh my God. I don't think he can survive in prison. He's strong, but he also will shoot his mouth off at someone and get shanked.”

“He's not going to prison,” I said simply.

“D'you have a plan?” Des said. Their words were starting to run together and their breathing was shallow and quick. I think they were hyperventilating.

“Working on it. But there's no way he's going to get out of wedding planning with me.”

“What?” Des asked. Their breathing had calmed after that statement. “Wedding planning? Your fiance is in jail and you're worried he won't help you with wedding plans?”

“I'm not worried at all. He's going to help me. So, I have to get him out. It's that simple,” I said simply. I pulled out a briefcase I kept under the bed. I started sifting through different wallets. They were in two different sections. “Now, I know I have one for something like this. Let me see. Ah, yes.”

I found a wallet with an ID that was a little older than I would have liked, but it was the right identity for these purposes.

Driver's License

Shirley Schmidt

1585 Main St.

Newark, NJ 07114

D.O.B. 1/27/1996

Customer Number: 03-141-5926

Issue Date: 1/27/2018 Expiration Date 1/27/2023

Sex Hair Eyes Hgt. Wgt.

F Brwn Blu 5'06 155

It also came with a set of ten business cards.

Shirley Schmidt

Attorney at Law

Crane, Poole, & Schmidt

705-203-5555

[email protected]

The other thing that it had was a couple of life details for me. Little facts about my assumed life to make things more real. A social security card, lists of subscriptions that were under Shirley's name, and most importantly for this situation, a Bar ID number. It had a couple of slightly doctored photos to make it look more real, artificially aged. All of the wallets in the briefcase looked aged. Not so much that they were falling apart, but enough so that they looked like they were used every day. I spent a few moments memorizing the number.

“God damn him! Getting caught like some fucking amateur. I've already had thirty aliases burnt through when my name was leaked. Now this one too!”

“What's going on?”

“I have a plan, but it's going to burn through one of my most expensive identities.”

“Oh? Some identities cost more than others?”

“Yeah, depending on what credentials they have,” I said, absently grabbing one of the poppers. I threw it on the bed. “This one has a legit Bar ID. And he's going to get me another one.”

“Wait, you're going in there!? Are you nuts? Then they'll have both of you!”

“No, they won't. Firstly, they're not going to recognize me. And even if they do, then I just do my thing and we're out anyway,” I said, gathering some clothes from my closet. I sighed. I was going to have to wear a bra. And do my hair. Well, he can fucking wait while I get ready. “I'll call you back with an update. Thank you, Des.”

I hung up before they could respond and started getting dressed. I put on a business skirt, did my hair in a tight bun, and wore some fake, slightly tinted prescription glasses. I did my make-up. Professional, but not too much. I put on heels and practiced walking for a few moments. It was something I had gotten out of practice for. But it would be good for the wedding. I sighed. There was still so much to do. Maybe I should call it off. This was a thought that had occurred to me several times over the last few days. No, I want to marry him. I just need to get Hope to sign the papers. And to steal the artifact. Then we'll be all set. Though, if Curt keeps getting in trouble, I may call it off anyway. He's been so . . . Reckless lately. It's not like him. Part of that was the fact that Marcelli had captured me. He cared a lot about me. It was cute in its own, infuriatingly dumb way.

I tried popping directly to Curt's equipment, but nothing happened. The app Curt had made told me that it was offline. Like it was a fucking printer. God damn him. This is going to be so complicated. I set up the waypoint just outside of the precinct and grabbed a spare popper to get back and set up the destination back to our room. I had the feeling that we were going to be coming out hot. I pressed the button and the world dissolved and then reasserted itself. My stomach lurched. I swallowed and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a few deep swigs, then reapplied my lipstick. I don't know how the hell he does this constantly.

I made my way inside, my heels clicking. There were people lined up ahead of me but I strolled past them. There was a short, balding man behind the desk at the front. “I'm here to see a client.”

“Good for you, bitch,” one of the people I had cut in front of said. “Get to the back of the line and wait like a good little girl.”

I gave this man one hard stare before dismissing him from my mind. He no longer existed to me. I turned back to the man behind the desk. “Which interrogation room is my client, Curtis Reese, in?”

“Oh, you're Esvanir's attorney. I wasn't aware that he had been allowed to call one.”

“That would be highly illegal. He is allowed representation.”

“Yeah, but he's considered a meta-criminal, which suspends all of those rights.”

“That's . . .” I thought about it for a moment, suppressing a shiver. If I was ever caught, it would be much the same. “I saw on the news that he had been arrested. And since all evidence against him is circumstantial, I will be pursuing legal action.”

“Okay, okay. What's your name?”

“Shirley Schmidt,” I said, pushing over one of the cards.

“Alright, let me talk to the lead detective,” the man stood up and everyone in line groaned. A few of them muttered obscenities. I dismissed all of them from my attention. They weren't important. After a moment, the attendant returned with another man, who had a five-o-clock shadow, waxy skin and sullen eyes.

“So, you're Esvanir's lawyer?” He asked, glaring at me.

“I am Curtis Reese's lawyer.” I met his stare with icy determination.

“Metas don't get lawyers. He's going to be transported to maximum security in an hour,” the cop said. His glare was still fierce, but his voice was cool and conversational. Almost bored.

“Mister Reese is not a meta and I'm sure that any judge would agree that the prospect of arresting someone and not giving them a fair trial would be highly unconstitutional.”

“Metas are considered terrorists by the U.S. Government. They waive their rights when they decide to have powers.”

“Mister Reese is a U.S. Citizen,” I said coldly. This was so frustrating! This is the exact kind of thing that Curt was always so obsessed with. People being treated unfairly. And normally, I just blow it off. His causes all make sense and they're all important, but I need to focus on myself. But now that's blowing up in my face. What am I going to do? Through gritted teeth, I managed to say “Let me see my client this instant, or I will sue this entire department.”

“Go ahead and sue us. There's not a judge in the state that would side with one of those freaks!” One of the cops shouted. I glared at him.

“Do you really want to test this? Even if no one in the state would, I imagine if we got to the Supreme Court, it could set precedence. Meaning all of your abuses to metas would suddenly become a real big problem.” I watched the detective before me coldly. My heart was pounding on the inside and if my arms had not been crossed, I'm sure that my hands would've been shaking, but I refused to let anything show on my face.

“Fine,” the detective said, motioning me to follow. I took note of everything. This was the same station that Marcelli had been in. That was good. Familiar ground. But I got a couple of stares. People were trying to figure out why my face looked so familiar. Given that I had knocked out like eight cops here, I was a little nervous. But I don't think anyone recognized me. Not enough to call me out on anything. We got over to the room where he was. The detective held open the door and I saw Curt. His shirt had been torn and his face was bloody. His hair was standing on its end. He was missing his rig. I could tell because the sleeve where he hid it had been ripped entirely off. His face was swollen. He looked up and our eyes met for an instant. Then he returned to staring at the cop across from him. She was sipping a coffee. She glanced up at me when I entered, then returned her attention to her captive.

“Where were we, Mister Reese?” She asked as she flipped through the papers in front of her. “Ah, yes. Aiding and abetting a known criminal's escape. That'd be worth a couple of years. Except you're a meta. So, that's already life. So, again, I guess it really doesn't matter.”

Curt said nothing and just stared impassively at her. “Leave the room. I need to speak to my client.”

“Your client doesn't have any rights to a lawyer. We're doing this solely as a measure of good faith,” the detective who had guided me said. “He's a meta.”

“He has no powers.”

“The ability to appear and disappear isn't a power?” The woman said, not looking away from Curt.

“If he was Esvanir, and I'm not saying that he is,” I began. The cop laughed at me.

“If? Of course, he's Esvanir. He had the weird glasses and metal snap-y thing.”

“If! He was Esvanir,” I continued, loudly. “That would be a technological ability and would not qualify him as a meta.”

“No judge or jury would ever see it that way and you know it,” the man behind me said.

“I demand to speak to my client alone!”

“And your demands mean nothing. He'll be on the next bus going out to Bellemere Sanitarium and Correctional Facility. Maximum security for such a dangerous criminal,” the cop said proudly. I crossed the room and the cop at the table went to grab me, but I dodged her blow. That's when Curt jumped back and slipped out of his cuffs. He leaned back and kicked the table at the cop and grabbed my hand. I took out the popper and slammed the button. The woman grabbed onto my arm as we went and reality shifted. We reappeared in the hotel room and she was with us. She bolted from us and grabbed her gun. “Freeze, Esvanir! Lawyer!”

Curt exploded into motion and she fired. I was faster, though. I closed the distance between us in an instant and she turned the gun on me. She fired again, but I shifted my density, my molecules spreading out. I could feel each of them still, but my clothes dropped to the ground. I reached out, my hand becoming substantial again. She was good. She moved out of the way, hand coming up to block me. But that was a mistake. She touched me. And then it was over. I gripped her hand and sent a jolt through her. I didn't know exactly what it was. But it was just a pulse of energy that caused people to convulse and collapse. And sometimes they lost control of their bowels, which was pretty gross. But it was a good compromise for this ability. It had taken a while to explain. Curt went through his bag.

“Fuck. I'm going to have to make a lot more of these. We've been burning through them,” He held out two of the poppers, frowning at them. “But for now, let me see your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because they confiscated mine and I need to get it. And my rig. It'll be easier than building a new one. And we can drop her off.” I sighed and handed it over. He set up the new coordinates, grabbed the hand of the detective, slumped on the floor, and was about to press the button, but I interrupted him.

“Wait!”

“What!?” He growled. I narrowed my eyes at him. I had just saved his dumb ass and he was going to take that attitude with me.

“I'm coming too!”

“It's not necessary,” he said, softly.

“Apparently it is. You can't go anywhere without some meta handing you your ass.” I saw his eye twitch in annoyance.

“I was caught off-guard with Smash Gal.”

“And Thunderboom or whatever?”

“Thunderblast . . . He used an EMP.”

“And if he uses another one? What will you do?”

“I . . . I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I need to make a Faraday Cage or something.”

“Which you haven't had time to do. So I'm coming.”

“Fine,” he said softly. He didn't meet my eyes. “Thank you, Cind.”

“Whatever. Let's just go.” We popped over and he dumped the detective on the ground. The confiscated items processor stood up and went for a button to call for back-up, but Curt just slammed his head into the desk and he went down. He then got on the computer and typed a few things into the keyboard. I waited. The detective started to come to, but I jolted her again and she went down. After a minute or two, he stood up and crossed the room, and pulled his stuff out of a box. He strapped it on and then sighed.

“Fuck, it's still down. Hopefully, it didn't fry the chip,” he said. He then considered it for a moment and went back to the desk and typed a few more things into the computer.

“What are you doing?”

“Going shopping,” he said simply. After another few moments, he grabbed a bag and started pulling things off the shelf. He then directed me to do the same and gave me some shelves. We took some money, weapons, and other various things, and then he came up to me and kissed me on the cheek. We popped back to the room with our new goods.

“You're going to pay me back.”

“I know.”

“It's going to be expensive.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I won't forgive you until you do.” He sighed.

“I'll make it up to you,” he promised. He was almost always good to his word.

“Good.”

“You know, you looked really hot in your lawyer get-up,” he said with a lustful glint in his eye.

“Really, now? You just got arrested and you're thinking about sex?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yeah,” he said, honestly. “I'm sorry, but you coming to rescue me is just so hot. Especially with the sexy lawyer get-up. Hair up, glasses, skirt. It was amazing.”

“You're ridiculous,” I said with a grin. I wrapped my arms around him. “Fortunately, I like that about you.”

For once, I put on clothes with little reticence. I didn't care for it, but he made it worth my time. They also didn't stay on for too long. With our adrenaline up, we were both a little more impatient. And he would still owe me so much more than that. And I was going to collect everything. With interest.