We joined the crowd that was growing around Ewan, and I was disappointed when I wasn't able to catch his eye. We were a little too late to get closer to the front, as and he led us down the hallway we ended up at the back of the pack. I was frustrated, but figured that pushing my way to the front wouldn't make such a good impression for my agents.

Soon we came downstairs to the stored collections. I could hear Ewan explaining a bit about the nature of the museum, and its ability to only display a small percentage of what it holds at any given time. It was amazing to think of all the treasures that sat down there, waiting for their turn in the limelight.

As we passed one particular section, I felt the same pull that had grabbed ahold of me upstairs, and I was puzzled. If anything, it was a lot stronger down here, and it was getting stronger. Suddenly, I felt myself stumble sideways as it yanked me forcefully. I looked up to find my friends all watching me.

"Are you okay?" Jackson asked, putting a hand on my back lightly for a moment to steady me.

"Yeah, I don't wear heels that often," I laughed, brushing off the question.

We were stopped there while Ewan spoke, and I fought to listen to him and ignore the aching hum in the centre of my chest. Then, a new sound caught my attention, and I bit back a yelp of surprise when I looked to my right and saw that the small, white boxes stacked into a shelving unit were vibrating.

Suddenly, one box in particular worked its way free and fell to the floor, popping its lid off and sliding towards us. The pull of the energy was so fierce and familiar now, like a siren song, that I didn't even need to peek inside to know what it housed. I looked anyway, and found, as I expected, that one of the two items carefully packed into the box was a small stone tablet.

"What is happening?" Tristan whispered into my ear as we all stared at the box.

"I have no idea," I whispered back, only half lying.

After a moment I realised that the commotion had caught everyone else's attention as well. Ewan was looking questioningly at us, making eye contact with me for the first time.

"One of the boxes just fell right off of its shelf," Tristan explained loudly for Ewan's benefit.

"Oh, yes, it's the subway line that runs nearby. It seems to vibrate at just the right frequency occasionally and shake things around. Things don't usually fall but we're looking into getting shelving with a barrier to stop it," he answered reassuringly, then called over to me. "Kenna, would you mind putting it back up? If you could note the collection number for me, I'll get someone to look it over thoroughly. Thanks."

I honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth or not, since I knew what I'd seen and felt. I told myself somewhat sceptically that maybe it was a coincidence as I walked over to the box and gingerly picked it up, resisting the urge to give in to the thrum in my hands and pull the tablet out of the box, as if that would quench it. Placing it carefully in its proper slot, I took a step backwards and stared hard at it, as if that would force out its secrets.

A hand under my elbow brought me back into my surroundings. "If you're ready, everyone is moving on," Tristan murmured in my ear. The quiet moment reminded me of who he was underneath all of the flash. I wrenched my gaze away from the shelf, and let him guide me back to where Grace and Jackson were waiting, watching us.

After that bizarre interruption, the rest of the tour went by smoothly. I thought that Ewan did really well, and clapped extra loudly at the end. This time, I managed to catch his eye and I winked. With satisfaction, I saw him try to suppress a smirk.

"That was really interesting," Jackson remarked to me. "It's cool to see all the work that goes on behind the exhibits."

"I think so too," I beamed.

"He's good at what he does," Tristan said proudly.

Eventually Ewan made his way over to us, and we all congratulated him.

"Well done, Ewan," Grace smiled kindly.

Tristan ruffled his hair, forcing Ewan to attempt some damage control when he was done.

"Thanks, man," he muttered ruefully.

"I tried to make you look good but there was no question period," I accused cheekily. "Good thing you made it on your own. I didn't really have any faith in you, as you know."

"I know," he grinned at me. "I did it just to spite you. Hey, thanks again for taking care of that box for me. Sorry about that. Did you get the number off of it?"

"Yeah, I'll write it into your phone so you don't forget." He raised an eyebrow, but complied, handing me his phone. I don't know why, but I felt a little paranoid about it; after all, I knew the Villains were after it and you never knew who was listening in this crowd.

After an hour or so, the event began winding down, and I figured it'd be a good time to change out of the dress with Grace's help. We grabbed my bag from behind the front desk and ensconced ourselves in the largest bathroom stall.

"God, this is a gorgeous dress," Grace enthused as she tugged at the zipper. "You sure you don't want to wear it forever?"

"It's a little binding," I joked. "But I've been raving about Lexa to anyone who asks so maybe I should just become a full time sandwich board."

"Uhhh," Grace suddenly sounded a little alarmed, "you might have to, actually."

I twisted my head around, trying absurdly to see my own back. "What do you mean?"

She was tugging at the zipper gently but determinedly, but it didn't feel like it was going anywhere. "Do you think she'd notice if I cut you out of it?"

"Nah, we could just cover it with a bunch of stickers." It was either good, or terrible, that we could joke at a time like this. I think everyone's had the nightmare panic over being stuck in borrowed clothes before, and it was maybe even worse in the toilets of a museum at a fancy networking event.

"Maybe I can just rip it open with my bare hands like a telephone book," she growled, struggling with it.

"If you can rip a telephone book in half with your bare hands, you can have all the royalties from my next book." I couldn't pass that one up.

"Do you have to actually see me doing it?" I could hear rather than see her grin.

"No I believe you always, darling," I purred.

"Okay, what are we going to do with this? Why couldn't it have been buttons? Maybe we need stronger fingers," she mused.

"Don't you dare call one of the guys in here. I will die of embarrassment," I warned dramatically.

"I'm sure one of them would be happy to rip you out of this," she joked wickedly. Of course her dirty mind would go there.

"Oh my god, Grace," I groaned, clasping my hands over my eyes. "Must you?"

"Couldn't resist. It's probably true though..." I heard her exhale sharply as she tugged at the zipper again.

"Hush your mouth, woman," I protested. I so did not need that idea right now. I also hoped that sound did travel very well from this toilet.

"You love me," she patted my shoulder.

"That is very true," I conceded.

It felt like we had been in there for ages, waging this epic battle against the world's most stubborn zipper. I think at one point I started to plan my future life around it's tightly bound whims, and maybe loudly bemoaned my fate. I don't know, it's all become a blur now.

Finally, mercifully, Grace let out a whoop of delight and I felt my bonds loosen.

"Take that, zipper!" She cursed at it.

"Ahhhh," I sighed, sinking into her arms gratefully. "Thank you so much. I can't imagine if I'd been trying that on my own."

She patted both my shoulders reassuringly. "You are welcome, my friend. The ordeal is over now. I'll give you some more room to get changed."

I was just about finished, pulling my shirt over my head when I heard her come back into the bathroom. "Kenna, everyone is gone. Like, everyone."

Coming out of the stall, I frowned. "Were we seriously in here that long?"

"I guess so."

A sinking feeling washed over me. "Did you try the doors?"

Grace shook her head. "I came back in here for you first."

"Did they all think we ghosted on them? How did none of them think to text us?" I complained, checking my phone to see a blank homescreen.

"I don't think Tristan and Jackson are exactly working as a team," she answered dryly.

"You picked up on that, did you?" I said with a half smile.

"Yeah, it was fairly apparent." She grinned.

"I don't know what's up with Tris lately. It's like he wants to dial the clock back to high school."

"Maybe he finally realised he was an idiot and thought it might not be too late," she suggested.

"I think it is, though," I frowned again. I wished I could tell her everything about what was going on in my head, but I didn't know how I'd exactly explain Enigma to her.

"You have to go with your gut; time honoured wisdom, girlfriend. I'll let you figure it out." she smiled affectionately at me.

"My gut just wants pizza," I said, rubbing my stomach.

"Then it's obviously brilliant. Come on, let's go try those doors."

As I feared, they were locked. The lights were all still on though, giving me hope that someone might still be around. In a pinch, I could probably unlock the mechanism telekinetically, but I wouldn't be able to explain that one away.

"Let's split up and search for someone. Maybe Ewan's still here somewhere closing up. I'll have a look downstairs in the collections. Hopefully they don't have cranky security. If I scream, you can assume I've been bashed over the head with a flashlight."

"Okay, weirdo," Grace laughed. "Text me if you find anyone and if not we'll meet back here in 15 or 20?"

"Sounds good." I made my way to the basement, half wanting to feel the tablet's energy song again.

I felt it almost as soon as I got into the corridor. "Ewan?" I called out. When I got no answer, I let the feeling draw me in towards it. The silence was almost eerie as I stood in front of the shelf, debating whether to pull it out and look at it. I suddenly noticed that it was shelved in a different section than before, and I wondered if they were worried about its security.

Curiosity and instinct won out, so I reached out and put my hands on either side of the box, ready to pull it out.

A voice behind me made me jump and curse viciously. "If I didn't know much better than that, I'd wonder if you were a very sneaky Villain. I do know that you've got a sailor's tongue, lass."

I whirled and glared at Enigma, who was leaning lazily against another shelf, smirking. "Only for those who enjoy spooking me. How'd you get in here? I was distracted by this thing's energy, so you were able to creep up on me."

He waved a hand into the shelf. "I can walk through stuff, remember? I'm just here to check up on you. You didn't come out with everyone else."

"It's so weird having watchdogs wherever I go. Not used to that yet. Anyway, I, uh, had a wardrobe malfunction."

His mask tilted like the raising of an eyebrow.

"Not that kind of wardrobe malfunction! The opposite actually," I couldn't help but start to laugh, "Grace couldn't get the zipper to go down."

"How traumatic," the corners of his mouth tugged. "I see you got it sorted anyway."

"Thank god," I laughed again.

"It was a nice dress, though," he said playfully.

Pushing away the warmth that flashed in the pit of my stomach, I said, "were you 'camouflaging' about again tonight?"

One corner tugged up now. "Maybe. It's my job."

"You could at least stop and say hi when you do that," I suggested dryly.

"What do you think I'm doing now?" The smile broadened. "Besides, how do you know I didn't?"

His tone was light and teasing, but it made me think again about how I didn't know who he really was under the mask. How could you feel like you knew a person without even knowing their identity? He knew a lot more about me than most people.

In my silence, he'd obviously thought more about what I'd first said. "Wait, did you say that I snuck up on you because you were distracted by the tablet's energy? Can you feel my energy? What can you feel from it?"

I wasn't quite sure how to explain it. "Yeah, a little bit. Sometimes I just get the feeling that someone's energy is there, even if I can't see them. It can get overwritten by other sensory experiences, though. But the amulet and the tablet have some of the strongest energy signatures I've ever felt. I think tonight the tablet tried to pull itself towards me. It was pretty creepy, like it was possessed. At the same time, though, it doesn't feel like bad energy. It's almost hypnotic to me. I'm a bit of an energy conduit, which I know fascinates Gareth."

"Well, it's pretty interesting. You should probably tell him about this, since it sounds like the tablet doesn't want to stay hidden around you." He was looking thoughtful.

I grimaced. "I try to avoid speaking to Gareth as much as possible, but you might be right."

"So can you feel my energy right now?" He asked curiously.

"Not strongly. I can tell you're there. Let me try something." I stepped forward and held my hand up, palm facing him. "Put your hand against mine."

He gave me a puzzled look but did as I said. I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressed against mine, and the hum of his energy pattern flowed more strongly into me. I tried to push it back to him and magnify it, like I was passing it through a megaphone.

I heard him take in a quick breath and opened my eyes to see him watching me in wonder. "Is that it that I can feel? Like a hive of bees is living in my skin? Kenna, that's so cool. And weird."

That description of it made me giggle. "Sounds about right. I can't believe that worked!"

"Did you just use me as a guinea pig?" He looked down at me suspiciously.

"Maybe..." I glanced up at him innocently. Our hands were still pressed together. I realised how close we were once again, and it suddenly felt like the air around us crackled with the tension. Maybe it was just my own tension.

I dropped my hand quickly.

"So were you just poking around down here for the tablet?" Enigma asked, folding his arms, as he leaned his shoulder back against the shelf.

"No," I remembered my original purpose with a start, "I was also looking for my friend Ewan, or anyone really who could help Grace and me get out of here. The doors are locked, to add to the embarrassment of the stubborn zipper."

"Sounds like you could use a guy who can walk through doors," he grinned.

"Are you sure? I know you don't really show people that ability," I bit my lip, feeling guilty. His eyes flicked down for just an instant, and then he looked away.

"It's for a good cause, and it's there to be used anyhow. Plus then I can test phasing two people with me," he mused cheerfully.

"Thanks, Enigma. We aren't going to split in half with the whole fabric of space and time or anything, are we?"

He shrugged. "Well, no guarantees."

"Excellent," I said sarcastically.

"Come on then, let's get to it!" He bounded ahead, calling back to me enthusiastically.

"Are you a time-travelling alien, by any chance?" I asked, following him.

"What?"

"Nevermind."

Grace stared when we appeared back at the front doors. "Looks like you found some help," she quipped.

"Hey Grace, this is the Super, Enigma. You might remember him from last time we were bizarrely trapped here after hours."

"You're really making a habit out of that," Enigma muttered in an amused tone.

I silenced him with a look. "Anyway, I found him patrolling the museum since they're trying to keep the baddies away and whatnot, and he claims to be able to walk through stuff." I shot him a devilish glance, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Don't worry, Grace, it's more than a claim, and I've only gotten stuck halfway once or twice," he joked.

She laughed cautiously, obviously not sure if he was kidding or not.

"No seriously, I definitely do know how to walk through stuff. Full disclosure, though, I'm about to try something new. If you could each take a hand, please." He stuck both of his out.

Grace gave me a questioning look and I shrugged as if to say, 'what choice do we have?' We each stepped forward and did as he asked. The feel of the cool, soft, leather of his half gloves was starting to feel familiar to me, and his fingers curled, warm, over mine.

"Okay, now, we walk. Through the door. You'll have to trust me," he grinned at both of us.

"This is a place where weird things happen," Grace laughed.

"Yup," I answered.

The feeling of strange displacement washed over me, and I knew we were phasing. Enigma gave my hand the slightest squeeze as we went through the once solid mass of the door. It was still solid, really; it was us who weren't any longer. The door felt like lukewarm water on my skin as we passed through it, and then we were out into the night air.

"Woah," said Grace in amazement. "That was a little bit amazing."

"I'm not like half substantial or anything, am I?" I asked in mock concern, patting myself down.

Enigma pinched my arm, and I yelped. "Nope, you're good," he smiled roguishly at me.

"What if that's my substantial half?" I persisted, rubbing my arm with a scowl.

"Then at least it's your writing arm," he answered dismissively. "Now, as your friendly neighbourhood Super, I'm obligated to ask whether you have a safe way home?" He gave me a meaningful look.

"Grace has her car. She's going to drop me off on her way home," I answered with a look of my own.

Enigma nodded, satisfied. "Alright well I'll leave you to it, then. Have a nice night, ladies."

"Thanks very much for your help," Grace said kindly.

He glanced at me, and I knew we were both thinking of how reluctant I'd been to thank him the first time.

"Thanks, Enigma," I beamed sweetly. I heard him chuckle under his breath.

"My pleasure," he answered, before he disappeared entirely.

Grace turned and blinked at me, and I resisted the urge to tell her that he did it a lot.

"So," she started once we were driving, "there's a story here."

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I knew damn well what she meant, and she knew that too.

"Enigma. If you don't know him better than a brief encounter at the museum that one time, then that is the most insane chemistry between strangers that I've ever seen." She looked at me expectantly.

"Eyes on the road," I chided. "And he's a Super, Grace."

"I am an excellent driver, thank you. I know you're not a fan of Supers, but it's not exactly like it's the plague or something. Besides, you didn't actually answer my question. If you really don't want to tell me, that's fine."

I sighed. How much could I give away? "Okay, yes, I know him a little bit. He actually saved me from a mugger a little while back."

"What?" She squealed, whacking my arm. "And you didn't tell me about that? How romantic," she waggled her eyebrows.

"It was annoying," I laughed. "I have to say he's one of the more palatable Supers I've met."

"I thought he was funny. He's got crazy eyes too, I bet he's a babe under that mask and that outfit." She gave me a sly look.

"Graaace," I whined. "We need to get your meddlesome self home to Stu."