Honesty by Beth Summerson Rated PG-13 Submitted: February 2008 _______________________________________ This is a Next Gen story focusing on the life of Jon Kent. I won't say much more because I don't want to spoil it, but I hope you enjoy. Feedback of all kinds is gladly welcome. Thanks to Nancy, my superstar BR who indulged my neuroses, provided excellent brainstorming ideas and character work, and patiently inserted commas every time a character addressed another by name. And never complained a bit! Thanks to Terry for being a fantastic GE, who also patiently inserted comas every time a character addressed another by name (among other situations), and never asked why I was incapable of learning anything from Nancy's tutelage. Thanks also to Wikipedia for provided such useful information on everything from rock types to bullets. Looking things up on Wikipedia made me feel like I actually know things. And of course, a big thanks to the people on the LC fic boards. Your comments and encouragement and criticism was wonderful as always. _________________________________________ ********** Chapter One ********** *** Lois buckled her seatbelt and turned around to face Jon and Ellie, who were sitting politely in the back of the Jeep. Clark had gone to 'pick up the wedding gift' so she was on her own. "Are you guys buckled up?" she asked "Yes, Mom," came the chorus from the backseat. Lois started the car and made her way out of the church parking lot. The traffic was terrible, as usual, but they had more than enough time to wade through the busy streets before they needed to be at the hall for the reception. Although the ceremony had been simple, (Lucy was never one for showiness) it had been difficult for Jon and Ellie to stay quiet for the whole thing. Lois was glad that she had arranged for a babysitter to come and take care of her kids during the reception. "Mom?" her son asked, breaking the silence in the Jeep. "Yeah, Jon?" "How come Uncle Brad is our uncle now?" "Well he married your Aunt Lucy today so that means that he's your uncle." "But what about Uncle Tim?" Lois sighed. She knew this difficult topic might come up. Ellie was still too young to understand divorce, but Jon was six years old, and very curious. She wished Clark was here. He was so much better at this kind of thing, especially when her own childhood had suffered so much because of the divorce of her parents. Still, it was important for Jon to understand this. "Sometimes," she began, "people who get married realize that they shouldn't be married after a while. They realize that the love they've shared between the two of them isn't the life-long kind of love you need for marriage. That's why Aunt Lucy isn't married to Uncle Tim anymore. But she was very lucky and found Uncle Brad to marry. They love each other very much." Jon was silent for a bit. "Do you think that will ever happen to you and Dad?" The worry was evident in his voice. "Oh, no Jon! Your dad and I love each other very much, and that's not going to happen." "But it might," Jon was apprehensive. "I bet Aunt Lucy and Uncle Tim didn't know they didn't love each other that much when they got married. I bet they thought they were going to be married for the rest of their lives. What if you and Dad are like that? You might think you love each other, but maybe you won't. Maybe you'll start fighting like Aunt Lucy and Uncle Tim did." At this statement, Lois pulled over and parked the car. She turned back to face Jon. Ellie was obliviously sleeping in her booster seat, but Jon's eyes were full of worried tears. Lois reached back and squeezed his hand. "Jon, that's not going to happen. Your dad and I don't *think* we love each other that much, we *know* we love each other that much. We're going to be together for the rest of our lives, I promise." Jon sniffled. "How do you know?" "I can't really explain it, Jon. It's a feeling deep inside me, and I know that we're meant to stay together, okay?" "Okay." Lois smiled at her son, and then turned the Jeep back onto the road. "Once you get older, you might meet someone who will give you that exact same feeling." There was a silence from the back seat. "I don't think so, Mom." "Why not?" A pause. "Girls are gross." *** * * * I walked down the grimy downtown Metropolis street cursing my vanity. What had possessed me to buy these shoes? Yeah, they were nice and everything, but the pointed toes pinched and the spike heels caused me to wobble on the uneven sidewalk. Idiot! I called myself. Self-absorbed twit! Are these really worth all the blisters you're going to endure on the way home? I glanced down at my tightly shod foot as it glided smoothly over the sidewalk and landed with a sharp *clack*. The other followed. *Clack-clack*. What was it about a gorgeous pair of shoes that inspires a woman? That makes her feel confident in herself and in the world? I lifted my head high and strode forward. These shoes were worth every last chafed skin cell. Really. I inhaled the crisp night air as I continued my walk. I could've called a cab to take me back to my apartment and save my tortured feet, but there was something about Metropolis at night that invigorated me, and so I had chosen to walk. The streetlights flickered as I passed empty shops and a couple cafes. I was just passing a dark alleyway when a man walking in the opposite direction roughly bumped me in the shoulder. "Sorry," I murmured, and stumbled slightly trying to recover my balance. Stupid shoes. Before I could regain my stance, the man took the opportunity I had presented him and shoved me into the alley. He was immediately joined by another man who I could only assume was his accomplice. The men clamped down on my arms and jointly shoved me up against the wall. "Give us your purse and any jewelry you got and we won't lay another finger on you, lady." They leered in hungrily, expectantly, their breath coming out in harsh pants. I was disappointed. Was this the first time they had tried something like this? They had no weaponry on them, at least none they had produced, and the hold they had me in would be child's play to break. Honestly, if they were going to try and mug me, they should've at least *attempted* to do a proper job. Looking at the two men on either side of me, I decided to just deal with the problem myself rather than involve the authorities and play the helpless female role. In retrospect, I should've just screamed for help or something. It certainly made more sense than risking the possibility of someone seeing me pound the crap out of these two guys. But the combination of night air, an awesome pair of shoes, and the long period of undercover induced inactivity had me on a natural high, and I was anxious to prove myself to someone, even if it was just a couple of petty offenders. I had never been very good at coming up with pithy catch-phrases, so I dived right into the action. I reached up and elbowed the guy on my right in the nose, then pivoted out of their grip, winding up to kick the other guy. I aimed for the solar plexus. Don't let anyone ever tell you I don't fight like a lady. Unfortunately, my well placed kick didn't meet its target. Instead of hearing the satisfying thump, and following groan of pain, I ended up sprawled on the pavement with a wicked pain shooting through my right ankle. I looked up… and saw Him. He was hovering at least a foot in the air, his cape flapping in the breeze. My two would-be muggers were hanging by their collars which he held tightly in his grasp. His immaculate red and black uniform proclaimed his identity: Supernova, the only son of Superman: defender of Truth, Justice and the American Way. And then there was me, sitting in a puddle with a twisted ankle. "Are you all right?" he glanced over his shoulder down at me. His oh-so-kind-and-caring look, combined with his condescending questioning was enough to push me over the edge. "I was until you got here," I snapped. Slowly, I untangled my limbs and got to my knees. My ankle was still throbbing. Supernova blinked. "Excuse me?" "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, Spaceboy. You had no reason to just barge in and push me out of the way." I picked up my purse, and shoved the scattered contents back inside. I briefly wondered if I was being a little ungrateful, but my wounded pride and matching ankle strengthened my irritation. Supernova bristled. "I saw a woman being mugged. Excuse me for wanting to help." I climbed shakily to my feet, putting as little pressure on my ankle as possible. I looked down at my once glorious new shoes. Dammit! The right heel had snapped off! "Well I didn't ask for your help, now did I?" A pregnant pause. I glanced at the two docile criminals in Supernova's grasp. They had mellowed considerably since his arrival. "Aren't you going to do something with those two?" I asked him. Supernova gave me an indecipherable look before shooting off into the distance. I gave a long sigh to collect myself, and then continued along the main street. It was difficult walking with only one good ankle and a broken shoe. I took a couple of painful, shuffling steps at a time. Had I maybe been too harsh on him? If it wasn't for him, I would probably be on my way home without a sprained ankle and with my shoes will intact. But still, he was just doing his job. I really shouldn't have snapped at him like that; it was really rude and ungrateful. There could be a time when I actually need him and then… Oh no. What happens when I DO actually need him? Given my… extracurricular activities, that is likely to happen. What if he doesn't come because I was so rude to him? That's ridiculous, I told myself. He wouldn't be so shallow as to not come. Also, I still have his father and his sister to look out for me. Unless he tells them. Maybe they have weekly meetings where they discuss people they've saved. And they have a list of some sort. A 'No Save' list of people who were rude to them, or who committed crimes or something. Crap! I've just condemned myself to death through sheer rudeness. I stumbled on the cracked walkway. But just when I though I was about to hit pavement for the second time that night, I found myself in the muscled arms of a spandex clad male. He led me to a bench and sat me down. "Please just let me take a look at your ankle." His eyes pleaded with me. He came back! My heart danced. I no longer had to die! He gently slid off my ruined shoe. Deft fingers ran their way along my sore ankle, and my breath unexpectedly caught. They felt so light and gentle… Focus! I commanded myself. You have to apologize to him. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," I began awkwardly. "It's no problem," he murmured, not looking up from his task. "No really, it was rude and inappropriate. You were helping me and I yelled in your face. I should've been more appreciative," I said. But I couldn't resist adding, "Even if I could've handled it myself." Why did I have to do that? What was it about him that made me want to be so indiscreet? He looked at me and his eyebrow quirked up. "You don't believe me?" I asked. "Oh, I believe you. You don't strike me as the type of person who makes false claims." He grinned at me. "I should apologize too. I should've been more careful when I rushed in there, but things tend to happen fast in those situations, and I don't always have time to adapt. Sometimes people get hurt even if I don't intend to." He looked so guilty, sitting there with my ankle in hand. "My ankle can't be that bad," I told him. "At worst it's a little sprained." I flexed it tentatively. "No it's not bad," he agreed. "I x-rayed it and there's no fracture, and even the muscle strain isn't bad at all. With a little ice, you should be fine." "See?" I told him. "No harm done." He came and sat beside me on the bench, holding my broken shoe in his hand. "It shouldn't have happened at all." He shook his head. "Did you know that my dad was sued once by a person who sustained a minor injury when he saved the guy's life?" "What! That's terrible!" "Luckily, it didn't hold up very well in court, but it still means I should be careful." "Well you can relax because I'm not going to sue you for this." I gestured to my ankle. "I'm really sorry," he said again. "Don't even say it," I commanded. He still looked gloomy, so I decided to try to cheer him up. "But while we're in the mood for apologizing, I should probably say one more thing." "What's that?" "Sorry I called you Spaceboy. It was a bit presumptuous of me." His face split into a grin. "I kinda liked it." "Really?" "No one's ever given Supernova a nickname before. Most of the damsels in distress are too much in awe of me to have that kind of creativity." "Okay, let's get one thing straight between the two of us, buddy. I am NOT a damsel in distress." "That's for sure," he agreed. "You're more the distressing damsel type." "Hey!" I cried in mock indignation. He smiled back at me. Then a stab of pain reminded me of my sore ankle. I winced. "You should get some ice on that and keep it elevated," Supernova told me. He looked at me a moment as if thinking through something. "I could fly you home," he finally offered hesitantly. "Not as a damsel in distress or anything. Just for convenience. You'll be able to ice it and put it up on your sofa right away." "Um, no that's okay," I told him, trying not to let the sudden butterflies in my stomach show too much in my voice. "I can just get a cab." Supernova shook his head. "The street is deserted. You'll never find a cab here at this hour. It's not any trouble to take you home, honest." I looked at his earnest face. There was no way I was going to fly anywhere with him, but at the same time it would be nice to have some company… "You can walk me home," I announced. His face became blank. "Walk?" "Yeah, Spaceboy, walk. It's what people who can't defy gravity on a regular basis do." "Well I don't know…" He trailed off. "It's kinda below my dignity, if you know what I mean." For a second, I thought he was serious. Then, I caught the glint in his eye. "You can consider it your punishment for spraining my ankle," I shot back. "My punishment?" "Well I already promised not to sue you, so this is the next best option." I stood up, grabbed my purse, and balanced wobbly on one foot. Supernova placed his arm around me as support, and we hobbled down the street together. We made slow progress. Finally, he let out an exasperated sigh. "That's it," he declared, and scooped me up into his arms. At first I panicked as I thought he would take off into the air regardless of me not wanting to, but I could still detect the rhythm of his gait as his strode down the street so I relaxed. "Does this count as cheating?" he asked me. "As long as you keep one foot on the ground at all times," I told him. "I won't attempt a run," he teased me. So that was the way it was. Supernova carried me down the all but empty streets as I gave him directions to my apartment. It was strange, really. Whenever I had seen Supernova on TV he had always been so distant and formal. I had expected he would be the same way in person, but ever since he had sat me down on that bench, he been so open and friendly. He hadn't gotten mad at me for yelling at him, he was so gentle and concerned about my ankle, and he had told me that story about his father being sued. Not everyone heard about that, I was sure. And he had even gone so far as to tease me! It was a side of him that never really showed in press conferences and during charity appearances. Was this something that he did with people he had just rescued, or was it different entirely? Or was it wishful thinking, I chastised myself. But whatever it was, there was an easy camaraderie between the two of us that completely surprised me. We reached my apartment all too soon. Luckily, the tenants at my place were the early to bed, early to rise type so we didn't make too much of a scene as Supernova carried me up the stairs, through the door, and finally let me down on my sofa. "I've got an icepack in my freezer," I said. I watched as his cape billowed out behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. How did it billow so well? Was it some kind of Kryptonian fabric that was designed to billow beautifully no matter the circumstances? I had thought I read somewhere that Krypton was an advanced society. Surely they had billowy fabric technology? Wouldn't they be able to make whatever fabric they wanted? I wondered if it was some kind of special Kryptonian spandex that he used to make the rest of the suit. Blushing, I pulled myself back to reality. Why was I thinking about this? What was with my odd fascination with his clothes? Supernova reentered the room with the icepack in hand. He firmly wrapped it around my ankle, and plumped a pillow to go under it. "Better?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. There was a pause. His job was done, having delivered me safely home. And now he would leave. Desperately, I searched my mind for a way to get him to stay. Maybe a discussion on Kryptonian linen? Who knows, it could be his hobby or something. We both spoke at once, breaking the awkward silence. "I should get go-" "Why don't you st-" We both paused, embarrassed. "I guess you need to go find some other damsels that don't need rescuing, huh?" "Um, yeah. Well I don't really need - but I should… I should go." "Okay." Why was I feeling so disappointed? "Is it okay if I use your…?" He gestured to my balcony window questioningly. "Oh! Sure, go right ahead." I was tempted to stand up and walk over to him to say goodbye, but what would I do? A handshake seemed way too impersonal. A hug? A kiss? Quickly, I scrubbed that thought from my mind. I'm sure that's exactly what he doesn't want. I bet every female between the ages of 12 and 72 has tried that game. I remained seated. My ankle was killing me anyway. "Well, goodbye." "See you around. And thanks for the lift home." He threw me a smile, and was gone out the window. ********** Chapter Two ********** *** Jon Kent trudged behind his grandfather as they crossed the farm's Southwest pasture. "I don't want to do it," he grumbled. "I already told you I don't want anything to do with all this stuff." "And I've told you, Jon, you have to practice whether you want to or not. It's the only way for you to get in control." Jon fingered his father's old glasses that he was now wearing. Just a few months ago he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing such geeky old frames, but ever since that one night when his grandmother had suddenly become a walking skeleton, he hadn't taken them off unless he was sleeping. Control sounded nice. But there was a difference between control, and what his grandpa was suggesting here. "I still don't see why you're making me learn to fly," he argued. "You said Dad didn't start flying until he was eighteen, why are you making me fly now?" "Jon, your grandmother and I have caught you floating three times already. It's the same with any of your other powers. You have to use them in order to gain control. I know how you feel about all this Jon, but you have to do this or else you're going to end up doing something we won't be able to explain away. What happens if you start floating in the middle of class, or you accidentally break something when a lot of people are watching? That's just the way it is, son, I'm sorry." "But why does it have to be this way? Why can't I just be like everyone else?" Jon angrily brushed hot tears off his face. Upset with himself for losing his cool, he stopped walking and flopped down on the grass. Everything was different now. His glasses kept him from looking through things, but just yesterday he had pulled the banister off the staircase by just laying his hand on it. He still had problems controlling his hearing, and his breath. And if all that wasn't enough, he had been shocked to discover that he had been floating two feet off the couch while he was watching the football game earlier this week. His grandpa sat beside him, quietly giving him a moment to calm down. "I know it's difficult Jon," he began. "Your dad went through the same thing. That's why I think you should-" "I *don't* want to talk to him," Jon snapped. Jonathan senior sighed, and patted his grandson on the back. "I know," he murmured. Jon tried to maintain his composure, but his face crumpled. "They had fifteen years!" he cried. "And they never told me. Why didn't they tell me? Why did they have to lie?" Strong arms enveloped him and a small piece of the anger and betrayal he felt were carried away in the arms of someone who loved him. *** * * * It had honestly seemed like a good idea at the time. But now that I was dangling off an all-but-sheer rock face I was starting to reconsider. I had never intended to go this deep into the quarry, but my ankle was still stiff from last night, and it had only taken a slight stumble to slip on the loose shale. Don't-look-down, don't-look-down, don't-look-down, I chanted to myself. My heart pounded in my ears, and I struggled to remember to breathe. The last thing I needed right now was to pass out. Of all the things that I thought I would die doing, I had never thought collecting rock samples would be the kicker. I had re-strained my ankle during the fall, and it was hindering my ability to climb up the rock. I felt safer just clinging to my spot, but I knew I couldn't hold on indefinitely. Maybe if I could reach my cell phone in my pocket… I carefully released my right hand from its death grip on the rock face and started to reach down. Teetering slightly, I let out a sharp yelp. I had forgotten. Three points of contact at all times. It was basic climbing technique, but how was I supposed to do anything when one of my limbs was already incapacitated? I was a mess. Why was it that I could do so many dangerous, life-threatening stunts without a second thought, yet as soon as I looked down I turned into a gibbering mess? I was about to descend into full blown panic when I felt a breeze at my side. Hardly daring to believe, I turned around and faced him once again. Supernova. "Now, before I whisk you off to safety, I just want to make sure this time. Do you really need help, or do you have it all under control?" His mouth curved into a gentle smirk. He was probably so thrilled to find me really needing his help this time. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me all flustered. So instead I went with the more gracious approach. "Actually, yes, I would like some help. This time." My calm words managed to hide my jittery insides. He grinned, and moved towards me, putting a steadying hand between my shoulder blades. "Just put your arms around my neck and I'll lift you right out-" "No!" I interrupted sharply. He paused, looking at me confusedly. "Why not?" "Well isn't there some way we could do this whole rescue thing without… you know… The flying?" I was jumble of nerves. Please no flying. Please let there be a way out… "Is there some reason you don't want me flying with you?" Supernova's brow was wrinkled. "Is it a personal space issue or something? Because I promise you I would never do anything to-" "It's not that," I interrupted. "It's just that… It's that…" Oh, just say it. It's not like this situation could be anymore embarrassing. "I'mafraidofhieghts," I blurted out all at once. There. I had said it. "What?" "I'm afraid of heights," I repeated, this time more slowly. Then he laughed. He laughed at me!!! "What?!! Do you think it's funny or something?" I was very close to descending into full hysteria. He sobered quickly. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at your fears. It's just that if you really are afraid of heights, the last place where I would think to find you is dangling off a cliff face." "It's not a cliff face," I interjected. "If anything it's a gorge, or a pit or something." He opened his mouth as if to reply, but I was in full panic mode and in no mood for polite conversation. "And for your information, Spaceboy, I'm not exactly dangling here by choice. I fell, okay? I slipped and I fell, and now I can't get back up because my ankle hurts and I need three points of contact and I only have three to begin with so maybe just go easy on me and-" The hand that was touching my back massaged down my spine, calming me. Then he maneuvered himself so he was hovering directly behind me. He placed two hands around my waist. "Can you step back onto my boots?" he asked in a calming voice. "Uh…" "Just step back. I won't let you fall, honest." I tentatively reached back with my bad foot, and gingerly placed weight onto his boot. He didn't even dip. Taking a leap of faith, I placed my good foot onto his other boot. He remained still, not even a hint of dropping downward. I let out a shaky breath. I had been conditioned over the years to always suppress my fears. A fear is a weakness, and a weakness is a trap. But Supernova didn't belittle me for my fears. He could've just whisked me up in his arms and have me on solid ground before I even noticed, but instead he was willing to play into my ridiculous phobia and baby me out of the situation. "What happens if you suddenly stop flying?" I suddenly asked, cringing inwardly at my irrationality. "That won't happen." Despite my stupid question, his voice betrayed no impatience or ridicule. "You don't know that. All you know is that it's never happened before." I twisted my neck around to face him. "What if it happens for the first time tonight?" "It's not going to happen, okay? You'll be safe." He spoke in a calm, reassuring tone. I felt myself start to relax, even though I kept a death grip on the rock wall in front of me. "Jeez, I never knew you could be such a Scaredy Cat." "I am not a Scaredy Cat!" He smirked again. Damn that expression. "Anyway, what are you, eight? Since when did superheroes start name-calling their rescuees?" "You started it!" he teased. I was tempted to stick my tongue out at him, but decided to take a mature stance. Plus, his face was so close to mine, I would probably end up French kissing the guy. Oh. Wow. French-kissing Supernova. My cheeks began to heat up. But before I could indulge my fantasy too much, he was speaking again. "Now you can keep a hold of the rock as much as you want. I'm just going to lift you up slowly okay? Kind of like an elevator." I nodded my head. Right. The rescue. Slowly, I felt myself begin to rise up. I kept my hands on the rock face, 'climbing' up along with him. "Thanks for coming for me by the way." I tried to calm the tell-tale tremor in my voice. "Lucky me that you were nearby, huh?" "I heard you screaming, actually." "What??!! I didn't… Okay, maybe I did scream. But it was just a tiny one." "Well lucky for you, I have good hearing." I could hear the grin coming through his voice. Finally, we reached level ground. Supernova let me down on my hands and knees, and I waited for my shaking body to calm down. I brought myself to me feet. "Thanks," I told him again. "You don't have to answer this," he began, "but what is a person who's terrified of heights doing hanging around the edge of an abandoned rock quarry?" "It's all about confronting your fears directly," I told him, trying to pull of a nonchalant attitude. "If I were to constantly avoid heights, the fear would just grow more and more until I wouldn't even be able to use a step stool anymore." "So you just throw yourself off a cliff every month as a desensitization technique?" Amusement sparkled behind his eyes. "No, of course not." I rolled my eyes. "I also had to - Crap!" I exclaimed. How could I have forgotten? "What? What's wrong?" "I needed to get a sample of this rock," I explained. "That's what I was doing here." Supernova raised his eyebrows. "A sample?" "Yeah, this is a perfect example of metamorphic rock, and I was going to-" "Wait here," He interrupted. He was gone and back in the blink of an eye, this time holding a sizeable chunk of rock in his hand. "Will this do?" He passed it to me. I hefted it in my hand, and then peered in for a closer look. "Yes, it's beautiful," I told him. "Look, you can see the stripes running across it. That's where different minerals have been compressed over the years, forming this rock. Thank you." He nodded in acknowledgement. Then he opened his other hand, showing me a mess of broken plastic and wire. "I found this at the bottom of the quarry. It's not yours, is it?" I frantically felt in my pocket. Nothing. My phone must've fallen out when I fell. "Oh no!" I scooped the pieces into my hand, and shifted through them. There was no way it could be repaired. "How did you get here in the first place?" He glanced around, no doubt looking for a car. "My car is in the shop so I took a cab as far as the driver would go; then I hiked the rest of the way. But now I can't call for another cab to come pick me up." "You hiked here? Isn't your ankle bothering you?" "Yes. It is. Thank you so much for asking." I was stranded with no way of getting back to Metropolis. Supernova shifted uncomfortably. "I could always fly you back to Metropolis." "What? No, I… I can't" Somehow it didn't come out as firmly negative as I had thought it would. Maybe I was still giddy from my successful 'climb' out of the quarry. Maybe it was the extra-clear night air. Maybe I just wanted to spend more time with him. Whatever it was, I was in the mood for an adventure. I looked at Supernova tentatively, and he knew to push me forward. "C'mon Scaredy, what happened to confronting your fears to overcome them?" "Couldn't you just… run me back or something?" "Sorry, Metropolis is too crowded and busy to try to pull a stunt like that. You're either flying back with me or you're hitchhiking along the highway." I took a deep breath. "Okay," I whispered. Then louder: "Okay." I stepped forward uncertainly. "Just put your arms around my neck," he instructed. "Here, let me hold your rock." He took it from me, and I did as he instructed, and then placed my feet on top of his boots as before. We had only risen a couple feet before I had another attack of nerves. "Uh, Supernova?" He stopped rising in the air. "Yeah Scaredy?" "About the whole thing about suddenly not being able to fly… That's never actually happened to you has it? Not even a hint of it, right? I mean, completely out of the realm of possibility?" I glance nervously at the ground. "It won't happen, I promise. Just don't look down until you feel comfortable. Keep looking at my face." I had no problem whatsoever doing that. He had a nice face, not only physically, but also character-wise. I was a good judge of faces, and I could tell just by looking at him that he was a great guy. Not to mention all the things he had done for me in the last few days. Here he was, dragging some hysterical woman through the skies of Metropolis while he could be battling forest fires or mud slides or… Well, anything but this. Did it mean something? Did he have a special interest in me, more than the average person? No, of course not. He was just providing good customer service. That was all. I hastily pulled myself away from my train of thought. "So, I'm not to sure I like your nickname for me," I said. "What's wrong with Scaredy? I happen to like it." He gave me a devastating smile. "Besides, you never told me your real name, so I had to make one up, didn't I?" "Oh that's right, I never did tell you," I blushed at my inadvertent rudeness. "My name is Kaylie Stewart." "Pleased to meet you, Miss Stewart." I let out a chuckle. "Are you seriously going to call me that? Because now I'm starting to think I like Scaredy better." "All right. Kaylie." We both smiled. "I think I'm ready to go up now," I said, steeling myself against the inborn panic. To my surprise, he let out a bark of laughter. "What?" I asked. "Look down." I did. "Holy sh-!" My mouth was immediately smothered by his large hand. "Careful, Kaylie, it wouldn't do for Metropolis to know that I make it a habit to give lifts to people with dirty mouths." There was a wicked gleam behind his eyes. "You brat!" I exclaim. "We must be a million feet in the air!" That blasted smirk reappeared. "Hardly that high, but we are pretty far up." I drew myself closer into his embrace, searching for security. "Are you okay?" he asked. "I could take us lower if you want…" "No, I'm actually okay," I realized, much to my surprise. "This feels a lot more secure than hanging off a cliff face." And it did to. I had always imagined flying with one of the Kryptonians would just serve to aggravate my fears, but as I rested safe in Supernova's arms I started to think that maybe heights weren't too bad… Until we dipped suddenly. "Ahh!!" I screamed, and pulled myself even closer to Supernova. If he wasn't invulnerable I would have worried about strangling him. As it was, he only laughed. "Are you okay?" he asked. He seemed to be asking that question a lot lately. "I'm fine," I replied shakily. "Air currents," he said by way of explanation. "They don't usually affect me too much, but every once in a while there's a bit of a pressure drop and… well, you know." He shrugged nonchalantly, but I was still considerably shaken. Flying was definitely not a good idea. I could see a cluster of city lights ahead. Maybe he could just drop me off at the city limits and I could hail a cab. He wouldn't be too offended, would he? He probably had a bunch of other stuff to take care of. "It helps to talk." His voice interrupted my train of thought. "What?" "It's a good distraction if you talk." "Oh, um… okay." I drew a blank. "What should I talk about?" I asked. "Well, how about telling me why you needed such a perfect sample of metamorphic rock. Are you a geologist or something?" "No, not a geologist," I said. "I'm a teacher at Riverview Alternative School. The rock was for my next lesson." He burst out laughing. Again. Honestly, what did he find so funny about me? "What? What's so funny about me being a teacher?" Maybe it wasn't as cool and action filled as my other profession, but it still wasn't anything to laugh about. "Nothing," he assured me. "It's just that I don't see many teachers who are willing to risk their lives for a lesson. There's the obvious police officer and firefighter who put their lives on the line on a daily basis. Then there are the reporters who'll do anything for a scoop. And I know of a few intellectual types who'll go pretty far to get what they need. But you're the first teacher I've met who is willing to face her greatest fear in order to bring her students a rock for her next lesson. That's something special." "Well, I don't know about that," I began, blushing under his praise. "The way I see it, if you're truly passionate about something then you'll do anything for it. I love teaching, and I love my students. And if that means I have to be caught dangling of the side of a rock pit with a stiff ankle and no way home then so be it!" Supernova shook his head in wonderment. "I was right. You are something special." The intensity of his gaze unsettled me. What was he thinking? I smiled tentatively at him, but then as suddenly as it was cast, the spell was broken. "Here we are," he announced, and lowered us onto my balcony. For all that I wanted the terrifying ride to end, I was very reluctant to pull away from his arms. Once again, I was safe at home, and he had no reason to stay. "Would you like to come in for coffee?" I blurted out. Then I flushed. Of all the stupid things I could've said, why did it have to be coffee? He probably didn't even drink the stuff. Now he would be all embarrassed and he would have to think of some excuse to- "Sure," he said. I blinked in surprise. He was coming in? Really? Giddily, I slid open the door which was thankfully unlocked. He followed me inside, and shut the door after him. "How's your ankle?" he asked as I started the coffee pot. "It's fine," I replied. "Still a little stiff, but I think I just need to walk it off." He nodded in response. I finished getting the coffee going and had the mugs and stuff all set out, then sat down at my kitchen table to wait for it to finish percolating. Supernova joined me at the table, and my throat went dry as an uncomfortable silence descended. I wasn't sure what to say to him now that all imminent danger had passed. Say something! I commanded myself. "So, uh… I make my coffee pretty strong. I hope that's all right with you." "It's fine," he said. Mentally, I smacked myself. Of course it's fine, you idiot! This guy can chug battery acid for breakfast, did you think a bit of strong coffee would be a problem? But I could still redeem myself. All I had to do was think of something really brilliant to say next so I didn't look like a complete dolt. "Oh, look, the coffee's ready!" Wonderful. At least it gave us something to do as we each doctored our cups to the way we liked it. Three spoons of sugar and a spot of cream later, Supernova was sipping coffee from my Snoopy and Charlie Brown mug. Why did I have to get that one out of the cupboard? I was sure I had some more adult looking ones lurking about somewhere. "This is great coffee," he said. I smiled in response, absently stirring the contents of my mug. Make conversation! I commanded myself. Since when was I intimidated by him? "I uh… didn't know you had time for things like coffee. Don't you have to be out saving the world or something?" "I'll keep an ear out for trouble," he replied. "And there's always my sister and my father to take care of things too." "What's it like to have Superman as a father?" I asked. "It must be a lot to live up to at times." I had pretty much written the book on living under your parent's shadow. Supernova didn't answer right away and for a moment I had thought I went too far. "I love working with my dad," he began. "My sister and I entered the 'family business,' so to speak, of our own free will. He didn't pressure us into anything. But he is always going to be the first one, and therefore the one that everyone looks up to." He paused for a bit, and then chuckled. "Did you know that someone once refused to be helped by me?" "What? Really?" Why would anyone refuse to be rescued by Supernova? "It was just a couple months after I had made my debut, so to speak. This elderly lady had some car trouble and was stranded by the side of the road. I flew down and offered to take her and her car wherever she wanted to go." "And?" "And she refused, saying she had waited twenty-five years to have an excuse to call for Superman and she wasn't going to settle for some rookie son of his. She would wait for the real thing, thank you very much." I couldn't help but giggle. Who knew that Supernova could do such a good old lady impression? "What did you do?" "The only thing I could do really. I contacted my dad who swooped in and saved the day leaving me to wander aimlessly around the city looking for someone needing help across the street." I raised my eyebrow. "It was a slow night," he said by way of explanation. "So you're a resounding failure in impressing old ladies. Maybe you need to repeat another year of superhero school." He grinned at me. "Well, the old ladies may not like me too much, but I'm actually pretty popular with the younger crowd. My sister and I have a bet going that-" Suddenly, his head shot up erect. "What is it?" I asked. "Burglar alarm," he explained to me. "Sounds like it's coming from the downtown area." He was already standing, getting ready to leave. "I hate to cut this short, but I've got to go check this out." "Yeah, sure," I replied, bewildered by the sudden change of events. He was leaving? "Thanks for the coffee. It was really nice talking to you." I could see in his eyes that he really meant it, and that it wasn't a simple polite phrase muttered at the end of an evening. "Yeah, it was nice…" I trailed off. "I'll see you around, Kaylie." He looked straight in my eyes, and somehow I believed it. "Bye," I whispered as he flew out my balcony, leaving me alone in my kitchen. ********** Chapter Three ********** Riverview Alternative School was a second-chance school for students who have had problems with traditional schooling. The majority of the students had come from difficult family situations. The families were all in the lower income bracket, and the school was almost as poorly funded as they were. But despite all the difficulties this created, I loved my job. I really made a difference in the lives of these kids, and the way I saw their lives turn around was more than enough to compensate for all the frustrations along the way. But today, I could barely concentrate on my lessons. Supernova had taken hostage of my thoughts and refused to let go. He made an excellent impression on TV, but his appearance in person was infinitely better. He seemed more colorful, as if a two dimensional figure had suddenly sprung into 3-D. And I liked him. I liked spending time with him, and maybe I was crazy, but I got the impression that he liked spending time with me. I wanted to see him again. But he was off flying around and saving the world; there was no way for me to contact him short of jumping off a building and hoping he would catch me. I disregarded that idea not only because it put me in possible danger, but also because it might not be him who would catch me and I didn't think that that was a good way to meet the family. By the end of the day I was no closer to a solution than I was before. I tiredly let myself into my apartment, and heated some soup for supper. Supernova was on the evening news stopping some sort of volcanic eruption. Figures. While I spent all day moping about because I couldn't see him anymore, he was battling the torrential forces of nature. Suddenly, a soft tapping on my balcony window startled me. I whipped my head around to see Supernova himself standing there. I raced over and let him into my apartment, giddy with excitement. He had come to visit me! He stood awkwardly in the center of the room, nervously glancing around. "I hope I didn't come at a bad time," he began. "No, definitely not," I babbled. My tongue was loosened by the excitement I felt from his impromptu visit. "A bad time, that is. It's a good time. Anytime really is a good time. It's not like I was doing anything important. Not that I don't ever do important things. I mean, I do have a life you know. And I've got friends… but no boyfriend, right now…" Ugh, this was terrible. Why couldn't I have shut my mouth before I made a complete lunatic out of myself? "But the point is: I'm glad to see you again." Despite my spew of verbal diarrhea, he gave no signs of regretting his visit. He merely smiled at me. "I see you've been keeping busy." I gestured toward the TV which was still showing the volcano story. "Well, that's part of the reason why I came over here tonight." He shuffled his feet nervously. "It is?" I asked blankly. "I don't know if you've ever battled with a volcano before, but it tends to leave one feeling a little tired." "Oh, really? I… didn't know." What was he getting at? "Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you could give me the night off tonight. Maybe stay at home and watch some TV instead of falling into rock quarries?" I recognized that same teasing attitude from before, and I easily slipped into the routine. "Well, I dunno," I hedged. "I had planned a spelunking expedition for later this evening. It would be a shame to have to reschedule." He nodded sagely. "I thought that might be the case. So in order to sweeten the deal, I brought you this." Out of some invisible fold in his clothing, he brought out an inky-black shimmering rock. I held out my hands to accept it. "Oh, it's gorgeous." "Obsidian," he told me. "It's an igneous rock. When lava is cooled rapidly-" "There's no time for the particles to crystallize," I continued. "Instead, the rock takes on a glass-like structure." I turned the rock over in my hands. "You can even see the little tracks where the lava flowed. Where did you get this?" He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head in the direction of the TV. My eyes widened. "You took this from that volcano today?" This changed the whole nature of his gift. The only way that this rock would've cooled enough by now was if he had done something to speed along the process. It wasn't something he had just stumbled across while walking down the street, he had *made* it especially for me. "Wow. Thanks." "I thought it might come in handy for your lessons." "It will. A lot of my students have difficulty understanding concepts in the abstract," I explained absentmindedly. I was still trying to process the fact that the rock I was now holding in my hand had been a mass of molten matter just hours before. "Having a physical example that they can actually hold and touch really makes the difference. Thank you." We smiled inanely at each other. I didn't know what to say to him. He had gone out of his way to bring me this rock, but how was I supposed to respond to it? Then Supernova awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, I guess I better get going…" "Wait!" I called out before he had a chance to exit via the balcony. "I know it's your evening off and everything…" "Yeah?" "But I was wondering if you could give me a hand with a little bit of lightweight hero work," I blurted out, and snatched the movie case off of my kitchen counter. This was such a lame idea… "'National Lampoon's?" he asked. "Every month I let my students have a movie day as a reward for the work they've done," I explained in a rush. "But I always preview the movies to make sure there's no violence, or language, or difficult family situations. Most of these kids get enough of that at home anyway." He nodded sympathetically. "I've seen plenty of those situations myself." "Anyway," I continued, "who better to preview a movie than a shining beacon of good morals and decency such as yourself?" I looked at him expectantly as he gave me a scrutinizing look. I held my breath. "Do you have popcorn?" he finally asked. "I think I could dig some out," I told him breathlessly. "Then I'm in." "Great." The next day, I prepared in advance for Supernova's visit. Although he never said directly that he would come, I suspected that he would drop by again. It was a bit of a game. I knew that his silly little excuse to bring me a rock was an excuse just as he knew that I didn't really need him to watch that movie with me. I suppose neither of us was ready to admit that we wanted to see each other for the sake of seeing each other. He knocked on my window that night bringing a stunning example of black marble that had been polished to a high gloss. I let him in and accepted the gift with the appropriate thanks. Then he saw my kitchen table, his eyes widening in response to the cluttered surface. "Dr Jekyll, I had no idea you were planning world domination tonight. I would've come by at another time." "It's for my class tomorrow," I explained. "We're doing a science experiment." "Does the science experiment have something to do with wiping out the population of Metropolis? You've got enough chemicals here to dump into the river and poison everyone in the city." "It's not that much," I muttered, my face growing red. Maybe I had gone a little overboard. "I thought you were doing Geology with the students." "This is for an older grade," I told him. "I'm going to give them a selection of chemical compounds and they'll have to identify the components in each." "And you have to make the compounds first." "Exactly." Supernova surveyed the plethora of materials I had gathered in my kitchen. "Looks like you could you use some help." "Well, only if you have nothing better to do," I said nonchalantly. "Just tell me what you want done and I'll mix it up for you 'super' quick." His eyes twinkled, as I froze. Super-speed? He couldn't use that! He'd be done in less than a minute! "No!" I shouted. He quirked an eyebrow, questioning me. "You can't mix these with super-speed because then the… air bubbles get in and it's very bad for the…" I searched my mind desperately. "The ions," I concluded. "The ions?" The tone of his voice indicated that he didn't believe me, but I couldn't exactly change my mind then. "The ions," I confirmed resolutely. "They get all messed up and then my students won't be able to tell the difference between ammonium and calcium carbonate." Liar, I silently called myself. "I never knew that could be such a problem." He told me disbelievingly. "Look, buddy, who's the science teacher here, you or me? Trust me on this one." "Okay! I bow to your expertise." He reached over and picked up a bottle of distilled water, swishing it back and forth. "So I guess if I were to help you it would have to be at normal speed, huh?" "That's pretty much the situation," I grinned up at him, knowing that he would accept regardless of the terms. The man had flown around the world to get a rock for me. It was safe enough to assume that he would spend a little time mixing chemicals. "All right, then," he finally replied, "What do you want me to do?" For the next few minutes, we concentrated on the task ahead of us. Supernova responded well to instruction, and I gave him a clear outline of what mixtures I needed for tomorrow. We had been working in companionable silence for a while before I ventured forth into conversation. "So besides scouring the globe for rare and mysterious rocks and mixing up chemicals with local science teachers, what do you do during off hours?" "Not much," he replied. "I fly around looking for people needing saving, and do charity appearances." His expression was guarded, and I knew that he couldn't be telling the real truth. It bothered me that he was side-stepping the question. "Gee, that sounds like a real blast," I replied sarcastically. "And here I was hoping for some juicy bit of gossip to pass on to the tabloids." My outward denial of subterfuge seemed to relax him. "Well, there's also the secret bridge club that I founded with the police officers of the 12th precinct. Don't tell anyone about it though," he joked. I smiled faintly in response. "Seriously though," I told him, "you do have somewhere to go when things get too tough, don't you?" I searched in his eyes to find sincerity. "I can't even imagine some of the stuff you must see day to day." I shook my head sadly. "You've got to have a place to heal." "It can get pretty difficult," he said hoarsely. "I tend to see the worst in people at times. All the terrible things they do to each other. All the deaths and injuries that happen for no reason. It can make you sick." There was a haunted look in his eyes, and I felt the pain emanating from him. I reached out and touched his hand. The first physical contact we've had where he wasn't lifting me out of some impossible predicament. He gave himself a small shake of the head, and removed his gaze from distant memories of the present. "But I do have people to go to," He said reassuringly, "mostly my family. There's my dad and my sister and of course my mo-" he cut the last word off in haste, but I had already figured out who he was talking about. The super family was notoriously reticent when it came to talking about the mother of the two children. Most assumed that she lived on New Krypton, or that she was a victim of a 'passionate attack' by Superman, and her identity was unknown by her own children. But the way Supernova included her in his list of confidantes indicated that she was part of the family here on earth. Why didn't they say this in public? Were they trying to protect her for some reason? But Supernova was looking more and more uncomfortable with what he had just said, so I decided to just ignore his faux pas. "And you have me now too," I declared. "Honestly, any time you need someone to talk to you can come and see me. Really." He gave me thankful smile. "Kaylie, that means a lot to me. Thanks." He stroked my hand, causing me to inhale sharply. I had forgotten that it was still on top of his. A small zing traveled through my hand and up my arm. My mouth went dry. I swallowed hesitantly. "Supernova-" I began. But before I could finish any half-formed thoughts, his head snapped up in a gesture that was becoming all too familiar. "What is it?" I asked a little snappishly. "I'm really sorry Kaylie, I have to take care of this." He stumbled to his feet, almost knocking the chair over in his haste leave. "You can handle the rest by yourself, can't you?" He gestured to the mess of chemicals still at the table. "Yeah, sure," I told him disappointedly. "Great." His reached the entryway for the balcony, and paused. "It was great seeing you again, Kaylie." I gave him a small nod, and he left. * * * Jon flew in the direction of the sirens he had heard, mentally berating himself. How could he have let that happen? Why did he allow himself to become so open and unguarded? If he wasn't more careful he would be giving away the whole family secret. That comment about his mom… There was no way she wouldn't have picked up on it. How could she have relaxed him so much that he gave away something that important? Kaylie Stewart was a human wrecking ball. Ever since their first meeting a few nights ago, she had been a master at tearing down the carefully erected barriers that kept his identity intact. He had tried to be the stand-offish stoic superhero, but he couldn't resist the urge to bait her, tease her, smile at her, open up to her. She scared him. He had never thought he could trust someone again, not after his last disaster of a relationship. He had vowed that he wouldn't make the same mistakes again. Yet here he was, blabbing his intimate feelings and family secrets to this mysterious woman he had only known for a few days. He should stop seeing her. It was too dangerous, eventually she would find out something that would give everything away. Tonight should be the last night he would see her. But he already knew he would be seeing her again. Although he had only known Kaylie for a few days, he had grown completely addicted to her. He craved the humor in her eyes, the laughter in her voice. She had never seemed fazed by his appearance as Supernova. It was as if she had the real x-ray vision and was able to look clear past the spandex and into the soul. Whatever the reason, whatever the motivation, Jon knew one thing for sure. He had to see her again. ********** Chapter Four ********** Despite his hasty departure, Supernova came back the next night. And the next night. Each time, he brought some kind of exotic rock specimen; stunning geodes, ocean-smoothed pumice, dull grey rocks that were flecked with semi-precious stones. He would always try to brush off the effort nonchalantly. "I was helping with the rescue efforts in Peru and…" He'd say. Or: "I often go deep sea diving, and when I saw this I thought you might like it." I always had some kind of bizarre task that I desperately needed 'help' with. "I have to get thirty of these done by tomorrow. And no, you can't use super-speed because…" And: "I've been reading this book on feng shui and I think that the furniture in my apartment would be better suited if…" We played the game for over two weeks. The start of something I felt that night among the chemicals intensified. I was constantly aware of his presence in the room. He would accidentally brush his hand against mine and there would be a surge of heat rushing through me. Instead of wearing my typical sweats and pushing my hair into a ponytail I started putting extra effort into my after-work clothing. I went shopping and bought a pair of fantastic body hugging jeans and I paired them with low-cut camisoles and flattering yet casual t-shirts. When I turned around after getting something out of the cupboard, I would often catch Supernova guiltily lowering his gaze, and I knew that my efforts had paid off. Yet we never said anything. It was ridiculous really; two grown adults skittering around their feelings, afraid to be the first one to say something. Finally, I decided to work up the courage and say something. Supernova was helping me make artificial fossils with papier-mâché at my kitchen table and I was being extremely virtuous in ignoring the fact that his knee was mere millimeters from my thigh. "Supernova," I asked, trying to disguise the shaking in my voice, "do they have flowers on Krypton?" "Uh…" "Or New Krypton, I guess." "Why do you want to know?" His expression was guarded. "Well," I began, my heart racing, "here on Earth when a guy's trying to ask a girl out on a date he brings her flowers." He stared straight at me with a frozen expression on his face. I should've stopped talking then, but my mouth had already run away with me. "Now, I love the rocks, don't get me wrong, but we're actually finishing off our Geology unit tomorrow. We're moving on to Entomology and as much as I like you, the minute you start bringing dead bugs into my apartment, I'm locking my door." He opened his mouth to say something, but I was so far gone by then that I barely noticed. "But you don't even have to bring flowers if you don't want to. You can just come. Just you. And I would like that too. Actually, I would like that a lot." Finally, I stopped talking and just looked at him, holding my breath. There was a beat of silence before he grabbed hold of my head and pulled it towards his own, meeting me in the middle for one of those wild, passionate, bruising kisses that feature largely in romance novels. But I barely had enough time to absorb what was happening before a rush of air blew across the room, and I was left sitting alone. I looked to find Supernova standing on the opposite side of the room, looking horrified. "Kaylie, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. I should've…" He jittered on the spot, and passed his hand through his hair roughly over and over again. "What's going on?" I asked him nervously. "Look, Kaylie, there's nothing more I would like to do than start a relationship with you right now. You're smart and funny and charming and perfect and beautiful as anything." I blushed at his praise, yet was still confused as to where he was taking this. "But I can't lie to you like this!" he exclaimed. "There are things about me that you don't know, and I can't keep them from you and I can't tell you either. It's just too much of a risk. But we can't have a future like this, I know that. I should've stopped coming over here; I should've done it differently. I really wish I had." He paced frantically back and forth, and somewhere in all his confused ramblings something clicked. "This is about your other identity, isn't it?" I asked softly. He whirled around and stared wide-eyed at me. "How did you know?" he asked hoarsely. I gestured for him to sit down again at the table. He cautiously lowered himself into his chair, never taking his eyes off me. "First of all," I began, "I didn't know for sure until about two seconds ago when you asked how I knew." "Oh." "Now I'm sure you know that there are multiple theories as to the origins of you and your sister. The most popular is that you've been living on New Krypton until you came of age, and then traveled to Earth to join your father." I spoke slowly, piecing the evidence together for myself as I continued. "But a much less popular theory is that Superman has a wife or lover here on Earth and that you were born and raised here, only making a public debut when you were old enough. Of course for that to work, you would've had to have another identity, one you used while you were growing up to appear just like everyone else." "Kaylie-" "I'm not finished yet!" I took a deep breath to gather my thoughts and then continued. "Now your conduct in public leaves nothing to raise suspicions, don't worry about that. But the way you act around me is decidedly different from the way you act in public. I can only assume that when we're spending time together you're acting like your true self, the way you are when you hang up your cape." He nodded reluctantly. "Not to mention the amount of time you've been spending here in the last few weeks. If you have time to spend hours on end at my apartment, then you obviously don't spend the entire day saving people. You must have somewhere to go when there are no emergencies." Supernova looked me sheepishly. "Are you mad?" he asked. I suppose he assumed that any normal, well adjusted girl would be flipping her lid right now, but I'd pretty much grown up around secret identities and undercover agents so this really held no shock for me. But of course I didn't tell him all this. "Of course I'm not mad." I rolled my eyes. "But this doesn't mean we can't date." "Kaylie, my other life is more than just a name I use to blend in. It's who I am. I have a job, an apartment, friends, and a whole life. My sister, my dad, and I all have lives outside of our hero work, but that's who we really are. If I were to start dating you as Supernova it would be a dishonest. I can't have that kind of relationship with you." I shook my head. "Look, you're going about this the wrong way. You are being honest with me; you're just not being entirely open." He looked at me skeptically. "I don't see how there's a difference." "I don't need to know what your name is, where you live, what your job is, and all that stuff in order to have a relationship with you. That's all just trivia compared to your personality and your character. And that I do know." Supernova chewed on his bottom lip. "I don't know, Kaylie…" "Well I do. I know that we can give this a shot." "And how exactly does 'this' work?" "Well, you ask me on a date. And I know we can't exactly go to the Italian place down the street, but you're Supernova, I'm sure you can think of something." He gave a small smile. "And then?" "And then we go. And then we take it from there. If the time comes when you want to tell me who you are, then you will. But I promise I won't try to investigate you or invade your privacy in any way. I'll wait for you to be ready." "It's not that I don't trust you, Kaylie…" "I know. It's not about whether or not I can keep a secret. This is the kind of secret that can only be told to a few people no matter how trustworthy the other ones are. It's too big of a risk to tell people. Both for yourself and for the other person. I know that. And I also know that if you were to tell me right now it would put too much stress on us. I don't need to know right now, and I'm willing to wait." Supernova gave me an amazed smile. "How can you be so understanding, Kaylie? It's incredible." "Everyone has secrets." I licked my lips nervously "You don't know everything about me either. I have… secrets too." But my comment must've been too cryptic for him. He just grinned mischievously at me. "Ah, yes. I'm sure you've got plenty of skeletons in your closet. Multiple complaints of trespassing, assault charges from the local criminal population. You must have quite a record. But don't worry; I'll learn to deal with any curveballs you throw in my direction." I should've told him then that my curveball was going to feel more like a massive blow to the head that would leave him seeing stars for weeks after. But I didn't. "I'll hold you to it," was all I said quietly. I would tell him everything later. "There is one thing…" I began. "What?" "Well, I feel kind of silly calling you Supernova now when we both know that's not your real name." "What's wrong with Spaceboy?" he teased. I shook my head. "I need something that you can give me. It doesn't have to be your real name or anything," I rushed to explain. "Just something I can call you that means you." He paused, thinking. "You can call me Jor," he suggested. "It's the name of my Kryptonian grandfather, and since I was named after my grandfather here on Earth it kind of parallels." "I like Jor," I told him. I reached out and tentatively touched his hand. He picked my hand up and laced my fingers through his. "So there's something else we need to settle between the two of us, *Jor*." "And that is?" "When are we going on our first date?" "Mmm… A very difficult conundrum." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Is tomorrow evening too soon for you?" "Nope," I smiled. "Oh. No, wait. I have a thing tomorrow evening. I can't get out of it. How about the day after?" "All right. I'll pick you up here at seven?" I nodded. "Now is everything settled to your liking or do you have any other requests?" "One more thing." "And that is?" "Don't you think it's about time we kissed?" Have you ever experienced that fantastic moment when you're working on a jigsaw puzzle, and you suddenly fit together two pieces that previously seemed impossible to match? You try them in every which way, and nothing works until suddenly with a twist of one and a turn of the other they plunk magically together in the exact way that they were originally cut. That was the way that that kiss felt. It fit. * * * *** Jon swung the axe over his shoulder and brought it down hard on the chunk of wood, which splintered sharply. He worked at normal speed as he always did. It made him feel more human, even though the lack of sweat and his ability to keep his breath betrayed his Kryptonian heritage. "I still don't understand why you insist on doing it the boring way," a voice remarked from the trees. He glanced up to see his sister perched on a branch, looking down on him. "Ellie!" he exclaimed. "Happy Birthday! Where's Dad?" Their father had always insisted that he accompany Ellie on any cross-country flying expeditions in case she got lost or ran into trouble. He didn't need to worry about such rules with Jon because Jon hardly ever flew anywhere. "I came solo," Ellie announced. "It's a birthday perk. Now that I'm sixteen, Dad's letting me fly alone anywhere in the country." Jon shook his head incredulously. His sister's eager acceptance of superpowers was never something he could understand. "Most girls at sixteen are hoping for a car, you know." "Well then I guess it's a good thing I'm not most girls. Otherwise, I'd be disappointed." She gave Jon a cheeky grin and floated down to his level. Jon continued his chopping at his previous speed. "So you get national privileges at sixteen. What happens at eighteen?" *Thwack* The axe bit into the wood. "World-wide passport, my dearest brother! Imagine being able to fly to China or France or Antarctica whenever I want to!" She gave an extended sigh of longing. "Then when I'm twenty, I'll start working with dad in the 'family business'." Jon paused in his chopping and looked over at Ellie. "Really? You've decided you're going to do it?" "Yep! The only thing left to decide is what name I'll pick. Mom says she'll print whatever name I want when she writes up the exclusive. What do you think about Shooting Star?" "I dunno…" "I think I want something from space. Dad thinks it's a good idea too, cause then people are more likely to associate me with space rather than Earth. How about Nebula? Or maybe-" "What about Uranus?" Ellie gave Jon a well deserved smack. "Really mature, Jon. Thanks a lot. Aren't you supposed to be setting a good example for me or something?" "I'm just being a good brother. What kind of brother would I be if I didn't tease you incessantly?" "Speaking of being a good brother…" "Yeah?" "Are you coming tonight?" She looked hesitantly at him. Jon felt a stab of guilt in his gut. "Of course I'll be there, Ellie. It's your birthday party." "It's just that you hardly ever come to visit us in Metropolis. And you're moving away to college next month." She scuffed her shoe in the ground. "I guess I'm just afraid I'll never see you again." "Ellie, of course we'll still see each other." Ellie lifted her head to meet his gaze as he continued to reassure her. "We always get together for holidays, don't we? And now that you have your flying license, do you really think I'll be able to hide from you?" She grinned shyly. "I guess not. And you can always fly home to us," she remarked pointedly. Jon sighed. "Ellie, you know I don't like doing that. I only fly when I have to." "I know you do. It's just silly that you don't want to use your natural abilities." She looked at him slyly. "I think I know the real reason why you won't fly." "Why's that?" "I'm faster than you and you're afraid of being beaten by a girl." Jon scoffed. Old feelings of sibling rivalry began simmering in his stomach. "Yeah, right. I'm older than you; I've been able to fly for longer." "Yeah, but I've had much more practice," she said smugly. "I've flown across the globe. You only fly between Smallville and Metropolis." "Sorry, Ellie. In this case, age rules over experience." Ellie stood with her arms crossed, examining Jon critically. "There's only one way to settle this," she announced with a gleam in her eye. "No way, Ellie. I don't do that remember?" "Wow, you really are a chicken, aren't you?" Her taunting face egged him on. Finally, he gave a small nod of assent. Ellie's face split into a grin. "First one to the Grand Canyon wins. On your mark… Get set… *** ********** Chapter Five ********** There is a small but exclusive gentleman's club nestled in the heart of downtown Metropolis. It is named, most unoriginally, The Gentleman's Club. Its main attractions are the vast selection of high-brow liquor, the seafood sampler platter, and the women; who are all young, fit, and scantily clad. The traditional uniform for a cocktail waitress consists of a tight corset style top, and a short clingy skirt that is better described as a fringe. I think I have belts wider than that skirt. As long as the girl wears the regulation garter, and subscribes to The Gentleman's Club color scheme, the accessories are for her own choosing. That night, I had chosen a pair of midnight blue fishnets and high spike heels. I had a glittering necklace that swooped across my chest in a vain attempt to disguise my exposed cleavage but I think all it did was draw attention to it. The outfit completely objectified my body, and caused far too many eyes to wander. The corset top made it difficult to breathe, and I couldn't even cross my legs without showing a flash of coordinating underwear. It was, in short, demeaning, uncomfortable, and embarrassing. But the shoes were awesome. The biggest risk (although it wasn't a very big one) in this assignment was that someone would recognize me. That would mean that both of my careers would come to a sudden and unpleasant end. But it was unlikely that any of the parents, staff, and least of all, students from Riverview Alternative would come to The Gentleman's Club. And even if they did come, it was extremely unlikely they would see Kaylie Stewart as their cocktail waitress. 'Catty Collins' sported a bleach-blonde bob that was radically different from my normal shoulder length auburn style, and wore a heavy layer of makeup with dark color around the eyes. I was blessed with a peculiar shade of hazel eyes that absorbed surrounding color, in this case causing my eyes to darken without needing colored contacts. Plus, my four inch heels made me significantly taller than I really was. Catty was nothing like Kaylie. She sauntered around the club, sending smoldering glares at the customers. She pursed her lips seductively and trailed her hands over the shoulders of the clients as she passed them. Eyes swiveled after her in her wake as she glided across the floor. As much as I hated playing the part, it was what kept my cover alive. If Sproxton was looking for an agent to be working in the crowd, he would least suspect the most promiscuous one of the lot to be it. He was, on top of all his other despicable qualities, a chauvinistic pig. As I cleared away empty whiskey glasses from a nearby table, I struggled to make out the conversation he was having with another middle aged man in a secluded booth. "…business is doing well, I trust?" the greasy stranger asked Sproxton. "As well as can be expected," he replied. "Of course a man in my position always hopes for the best and expects the worst." He laughed jovially and sucked heavily on his cigar. I wandered innocuously closer to his booth, pretending to clear off empty tables. "A cautious man such as yourself no doubt considers all consequences before making a business decision," Greasy simpered. "You're certainly correct," Sproxton declared. "An unwise investment could ruin a… businessman such as myself. Especially in these dangerous times." "Ah, yes. You're very wise. The times are certainly dangerous, what with Intergang's rise in power." Finally, they were getting around to the point of the meeting. I polished the same spot on the table over and over again as I strained my ears to hear the conversation over the noise of the club. "Correct me if I'm wrong my friend, but I have heard rumors that Intergang's been having some leadership issues lately. Mutiny in the ranks." Sproxton stabbed his cigar stub in the ashtray and took a swig of his drink. Greasy shook his head and smiled benevolently. "You, of all people, should know not to listen to rumors. They're nothing but unsubstantiated lies spread in an effort to appease the masses. Intergang is not so indiscreet as to allow details of its inner workings to be known to the general public." "I suppose," Sproxton sighed, "that the only way one might really know the strength of Intergang is to speak to one of the executives. Not to pathetic underlings who've been sent to offer petty bribes in exchange for half-hearted allegiance." Here his voice sharpened, and Greasy's slimy smile slipped. He was about to open his mouth in defense when Sproxton suddenly looked up and locked gazes with me. In my interest in the conversation I had come too close to his booth and remained for too long looking at the pair. I resisted the urge to drop my gaze, a sure giveaway that I had been watching, and instead returned his stare, giving him a long, slow once-over. Sproxton was well built for a man of his age, and I could see at least three conspicuous bulges where various weaponry was no doubt hidden. I felt his eyes crawling over me in return and I submitted to the visual inspection unflinchingly. Finally he dismissed me as a non-threat. "Another round, miss," he commanded. Dammit, I cursed inwardly. Although I was able to decipher the innuendo and subtext within the conversation, there was no way that it would hold up in an inquiry. I still had no proof. But he had asked for another drink so I had no choice but to walk away from the pair, leaving them to discuss who knows what as I went to get refills. I was, after all, just a cocktail waitress. * * * I was on outfit number six by the time he knocked on my balcony door. I raced over to let him in as I struggled to twist my arm into the blazer I had chosen. I slid open the door and Supernova (or Jor, as I was to call him) stepped into the room. "Hey," he grinned at me. "Where are we going?" I blurted out. He chuckled. "It's nice to know that a night apart didn't change your opinion of me. You still treat me with the highest respect." "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to dress for a date when you have no idea where you're going?" I snapped. "If it's the traditional dinner date then I have to wear something dressy, but if you're one of those guys who take girls out paintballing as a first date then I'd end up ruining my nice clothes and then when you finally decide to have a nice date with me I have nothing to wear because all my clothes are covered in paint splotches. So I've been trying on about a billion different outfits trying to find something that's nice, but not too nice and something that I can wash paint out of and that's a lot harder than it looks." I straightened my jacket uneasily. Jor cocked his head to the side and peered at my outfit questioningly. "You don't have a swimsuit underneath all that, do you?" "What?! No. Wait, did you *look*?!!!" I crossed my arms in front of me in a vain attempt to protect myself. Jor rolled his eyes. "Of course not, your virtue's safe with me. But you might want to change into a swim suit and some beach clothes because that's where we're going." "We're going to the beach?" I asked confusedly. "Isn't it a little out of season?" "Well that depends on where we go, now doesn't it?" His eyes twinkled at me. Was he going to take us to a tropical beach on our first date? Wow. "Okay, just give me a minute to change." I entered my room dazedly and threw on my swimsuit and warm cover-up clothing, kicking my last attempt at an outfit into the corner. Jor smiled at me as I entered. "Now it's time for me to change," he said. All of a sudden, he disappeared into a spinning blur of colors. I was completely spellbound. I had spent most of our acquaintance convincing him not to use super-speed, so I had never actually seen him doing it up close. The small tornado that contained my date for the evening slowed, and I was able to make out his features once more. >From the neck up he looked the exact same, but instead of the typical spandex uniform I had always known him to wear; he had on a black t-shirt and a pair of dark-rinse jeans that accentuated his long, powerful legs. Very long, and very powerful. My slackened jaw was a testimony to the fact. "Wow." I blinked. "So that's one way to get out of your work clothes." He smiled at me self-consciously. "What do you think?" "I think… that that's pretty amazing." I stepped closer to him, taking in his appearance. He ducked his head down to my level and we shared a soft kiss. As we broke apart I could see his eyes questioning me silently, asking if the change was too much. I responded to his question with one of my own. "So are you going to tell me where this mysterious beach is?" "Nope. That would spoil the surprise." I sighed wistfully. "Well I guess I'll have to find out when we get there." Jor grasped my hand and started towards my balcony, and I was suddenly reminded of our mode of transportation. Flying. Right. My heart tripped over itself and Jor must've realized that something was wrong because he turned back to me with an expression of concern on his face. "Kaylie, are you ok with the flying? Because if you're not we don't have to go. We can do something else." "No! I-I mean I'm not *not* scared but I want to… I mean we can't spend all our time in my apartment and flying is the way to…" I took a breath and spoke calmly. "I want to do this with you. I want to go to your mystery beach." "You know that I won't let anything happen to you," He told me. I nodded. "I trust you." * * * Hours later, we were lying together on the beach with the sand acting as a perfect pillow. The island that Jor had taken us to was completely uninhabited except for the local wildlife, and he refused to tell me where in the world it was. If I had really wanted to I could have taken notice of the angle of the sun, combined with a survey of the flora and fauna, and figured out the general location of the island, but I didn't want to. It would've spoiled the magic of the whole thing. We thoroughly explored the terrain before Jor led us to the picnic he had prepared for us. The nice thing about having a superhero for a boyfriend is that you don't need to worry about keeping the drinks cold and the food hot. He just does it all for you. And now we were lying in each other's arms as we listened to the sound of the waves hitting the beach. Jor looked into my eyes intently, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke. "First kiss," he declared. "Oh no," I groaned. "Can't I pass on this one?" "Nope," he replied smugly. "No passes. That's the rules; you have to answer the question no matter what." "Fine," I grumbled. "My first kiss was with Eddie Schumacher in the eighth grade. We went to go see a movie together and he tried to kiss me during the film." "Tried to?" "Well, he scared me," I explained. "I wasn't expecting him to do that so I kicked him in the shin and pushed him away." "Jeez, I'm starting to think it may be a good thing that I'm invulnerable." I gave Jor a mock punch on the shoulder and he pretended that it hurt. "Anyway, I felt really bad about it so after we left the theatre I gave him another kiss without the physical violence." "And how was it?" "What, are you jealous?" I teased. "Should I be?" I paused for a moment, thinking back. "It was wet," I finally decided. "Wet?" "Yes. Wet." "And… how about this kiss?" He leaned in to kiss me gently on the mouth. "Mmm… I'm not sure. I think you might have to do it again." He was happy to oblige. "Well?" "I think… I think I need to have it once more to get a full handle on the description. Would you…?" "Happy to," he murmured as he drew me in for yet another kiss. "Another?" he asked breathlessly. "Wait a minute buddy," I planted my hands on his chest and pulled myself away from his body. "You're just trying to get out of answering your question! It's my turn to ask!" Jor sighed dramatically. "Busted," he joked. "So what's my question?" "I want to know what your first kiss was." He shook his head. "No repeats, remember? That's the-" "The rules, yeah I know. Fine, I'll think of something else." I chewed my lip, stared at him intently for a few moments, and then decided on the perfect question. "When did you discover that your dad was Superman?" I asked. "Your parents must've waited until you were old enough to understand how important it was to keep the secret, right? So I want to know when they finally told you." He was silent for a few minutes, thinking. I started to wonder if I had maybe been too intrusive. Then he finally met my gaze again and I could see the sadness behind his eyes. "It's kind of a long story," he said. "We have time." He nodded, collecting himself. Then he took a deep breath and began. "My parents never told me, I kind of stumbled upon the information myself. I was fifteen years old and I was looking in my parent's closet when I tripped the secret lever and opened the hidden compartment where all of my dad's suits were kept." He shook his head, still working through his emotions. "I had no idea what to think. I kept telling myself that there would be another explanation that I wasn't thinking of. That my dad couldn't possibly be Superman because then he would've lied to me all those years. My mom came upstairs and found me pulling suits of hangers, chucking them all over the room. She had us all sit down at the kitchen table and have a family meeting. That's when my parents finally explained everything to my sister and me. Before that we were both completely clueless." "That must've been a huge shock at fifteen." I restrained the anger I was feeling. He should've been told sooner. Fifteen was much too old to be keeping a secret like that from your kid. "It was. I had no idea that my dad was anything but an ordinary guy. I actually didn't believe him at first, and he had to give a demonstration of all his powers right there at the kitchen table. I was really upset. My parents had been lying to me for fifteen years and I felt stupid for not suspecting and scared because I felt like I didn't even know them." He paused for a moment, thinking. "I was angry for a long time. I moved out of the house and went to live with my grandparents. It only made matters worse when all the superpowers that my parents thought I didn't have were suddenly dumped on me like a ton of bricks. It was as if there was some sort of mental block about the whole thing. I wasn't Superman's kid so I couldn't have Superman's powers. But as soon as I knew the truth all these abilities appeared. It took me a long time to control them, and that was part of the reason why I was so angry. It felt like my own body was betraying me." "How could they've not told you in fifteen years?" I wondered aloud. "It wasn't that they weren't planning on it. But they always thought they'd tell me when I first started to get a hint of having the powers. But of course I didn't get any of that stuff until they actually told me the truth. My parents were used to keeping it a secret, and the more used you are to keeping a secret, the harder it is to finally tell the truth." He sighed heavily. "I didn't really understand that until about a year ago, but even though I didn't completely understand it back then, I was able to put that past me. People make mistakes. I was long past the age of thinking my parents were infallible and I could've forgiven them for that eventually. But that wasn't the real reason why I was mad at them." "What was it?" "I was mad at my parents because I desperately wanted to be normal, and my newly discovered superpowers made that impossible. I was lacking so much control that I couldn't join any sports for a year after, and even then I was too scared of hurting someone to even try. Even though my grandparents live in a small town, I still managed to find the worst crowd possible to hang around with. I started to get into drinking and drugs but that stuff doesn't have any effect on me so I soon gave it up. Looking back, I realize it was a good thing. Who knows what kind of damage I might have caused if my judgment was impaired?" "But now you're flying around in spandex rescuing people on a regular basis. You must've come to accept your powers sometime." "My acceptance kinda snuck up on me. I had to use my powers to do certain things like shave or cut my hair so I got comfortable using them. Gradually, I started using my powers more and more just because it was easier. And of course my sister was always there challenging me to races, arm-wrestling, whatever. I would have to use superpowers just to keep up with her." "Sibling rivalry works its charm yet again," I teased. He smiled in response. "It was on my nineteenth birthday that I finally realized I no longer needed a normal life." "What happened?" "My parents offered to by me a car as a birthday present." "Pretty generous," I commented. "It was," he agreed. "But I didn't want it." "You didn't?" "The only thing that ran through my mind at the time was why I would want a car in the first place when I could fly around at super-speed and get anywhere I wanted on my own steam? The moment I thought that I knew that I wasn't going to live a normal life no matter how hard I tried to fool myself. So I chose to accept what was given to me. A year later I became Supernova and I have been for the last five years." "Saving the world from criminals and fighting for truth, justice and the American way." I traced my hand along his jaw, drawing his face into a smile. "And also saving crazy schoolteachers from their fate." "Hey! I thought we agreed that the word 'passionate' would be a better description than crazy." "Well I always say that there's a thin line between passion and insanity." He drew his hand up along the side of my leg and around my waist. "Isn't it supposed to be genius and insanity?" I asked, struggling desperately to remain focused on the conversation. "I guess it depends on how you look at it." He ducked in and stole a kiss from me. "Well, I think… I…" I could hardly string two words together because I was having such a difficult time concentrating between all the kisses that were raining down on me. "You know you can be very… very… oh, what the hell." Finally I gave up and allowed Jor to carry me away. ********** Chapter Six ********** *** He straightened his tie nervously as he entered the restaurant. He was late. Again. He searched the elegantly furnished room and found her sitting alone at a table, propping up her head with her right hand and idly stirring her drink with her left. He rushed over to the table and sat down across from her. "Hi," he began apprehensively. "You're late," she remarked coldly. "Yeah, sorry about that. There was a mugging and I had to…" He dropped his voice down and leaned in so she could hear him. "Be Supernova for a bit." She stabbed her straw through the ice cubes in her empty glass and pierced him with a cold, steel-grey stare. "And Clark or Ellie couldn't have handled it because…?" Jon bristled. "I was nearby, Amanda. If I had called for my dad or Ellie the guy would've gotten away by the time they came. Just because I have a date with you doesn't mean I can ignore the rest of the world." His winced inwardly at his sharpness, a symptom of his guilt. True, he couldn't just ignore the mugging that had happened right under his nose, but he didn't have to personally escort the perpetrator to the police station, and although he tried to give the police detailed reports whenever possible, he could've come back to the station the next day. The truth was, he had been stalling. He wanted to come late, and that both worried him and made him squirm with guilt. He took a deep breath to collect himself. "Look, I'm sorry I was late. Let's just try to forget about it. Ellie agreed to take care of any rescue calls tonight so you have me for the rest of the evening, okay? Please, Mandy?" "Fine," she said curtly, and briskly opened her menu. Silence settled uncomfortably between them, an unwelcome third wheel on their already difficult date. "So," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "How was your day?" "It was fine," she said, keeping her eyes glued to the menu in front of her. "I got some work done which is more than I can say for - Oh! Waiter!" She flagged down the man passing their table. "I'll have another one of these please." She gestured to the empty glass in front of her. "I'll just have water," Jon muttered. The waiter nodded and left the two of them alone again. "Mandy, how much have you had to drink already?" he asked gently. Her menu clapped shut. "I'm not drunk, if that's what you're asking," she snapped. "Just because you're some kind of paragon of family values doesn't mean the rest of us can't have two drinks while we wait *twenty minutes* for our boyfriends to show up." Jon sighed, exasperated. "Or maybe the reason you're so upset is because your date last night was more frugal and you didn't have to blow as much money on her." "We've been over this, Amanda," he spoke between clenched teeth, "Supernova made that commitment to the bachelor auction months ago. I couldn't just cancel." "Yeah, I know," she brushed off the explanation roughly. "It wasn't even a date, Mandy. The girl barely spoke the whole time except to ask if the suit actually came off." Amanda refused to be amused. Jon was close to losing his patience with the whole conversation. "Do you have a problem with me using my other identity to raise money for charities?" Amanda threw her napkin on the table, her eyes full of anger. And hurt. "Yeah, Jon that's it. I'm such a selfish bitch that I want to keep you from helping starving African children or whatever that stupid date was for." She stood up from the table and grabbed her handbag. "I'm going home. You can pay for my extravagant booze tab yourself if you don't have to go arrest another mugger or something." And she stormed out of the restaurant. It wasn't supposed to be this way, he thought in frustration. Sure, he expected her to be upset at first. He had hidden a major part of his life from her and that would change her perception of him. But when was she going to accept that part? Shouldn't it be smoother between them now that all of his mysterious disappearances were explained? But their relationship had only grown more and more difficult since he had told her everything. They fought constantly, and as much as she was striking out at him at every possible moment, he knew that he was acting like an inconsiderate jerk around her. He got up from his seat and threw a few bills on the table to pay for her drinks. She was right, too – she hadn't been drunk. He had seen her drunk at that Christmas party last year and knew what the signs were. Why had he made that stupid comment about her drinking? It was rude and mean-spirited, designed to draw attention away from his own shortcomings as a boyfriend. As he walked out the door and onto the street, he began to wonder, not for the first time, if he had made a huge mistake in telling her the truth. *** * * * I spent most of the day after our first date running errands. The constant nighttime visits from Jor combined with my undercover work meant that I had run pitifully low on groceries and other essentials. I returned to my apartment that evening with my arms laden down with bags. I stepped through the doorway, dropping my keys on the nearby table. Suddenly, I got the feeling that something wasn't right. Someone had been or was still in my apartment. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I closed the door behind me, attempting to keep my movements as innocent as possible. I didn't want whoever it was to know that I had noticed their presence. Arms still full of grocery bags, I used my elbow to flick the light switch on. Then I saw it: a dark head sticking up above the back of my sofa. Wasting no time, I launched myself across the room and tackled the person sitting there. I don't think he was expecting me to attack, which should've been my first clue. He made very little effort to defend himself, instead allowing me to pull him down off the sofa and catch him in a chokehold. It wasn't until I heard his strangled gasp that I recognized him. After twenty-four years of hearing his voice it would've been difficult to mistake it. "Jay?" I panted. "What the hell are you doing here?" I relaxed my hold of him and climbed off his torso. "What, a guy can't come to visit his sister without a good reason?" The reckless, smart-alecky grin was also very familiar. "In polite society, it's customary to at least call first," I commented, sifting through the pile of groceries I had dropped. "I think my tomatoes are bruised," "Well, that should teach you to go around tackling people." "How was I supposed to know it was you?" I asked incredulously. "For all I knew someone could've caught on to the game and was lying in wait for me here. You're just lucky I didn't shoot you on sight." "You couldn't have," my brother remarked smugly. "I disabled all your guns." He gestured to my coffee table where my entire arsenal was lying out on display, cartridges removed. Damn. "Well, what if I had had one on me?" I challenged, not yet ready to give up on the argument. "You wouldn't," he said confidently. "You were grocery shopping, Kaylie. There's no chance that you would bring a gun on an outing like that and take the risk of someone noticing. That could blow your whole cover." "You're awfully confidant of yourself," I huffed. "Dad taught me too, Kaylie. We're both trained to operate in the same way." "Are you going to tell me why you decided to break cover and visit or are you going to leave me to puzzle it out myself?" I asked exasperatedly. "I'm just checking up on you, Kaylie," he told me innocently, "making sure you're doing okay. I haven't seen you in months." "We see each other at checkpoints," I pointed out. I didn't entirely buy his excuse. There had to be a reason for his visit beyond a social call. "I mean really see each other, Kaylie. A checkpoint doesn't count, there's no time to really talk." "Not much to talk about," I shrugged. "Really. So you're not going to tell me about this new guy?" he asked. "What guy?" I asked warily. How did he know about Jor? Instead of answering my question, Jay strode over to an absolutely gorgeous bouquet of flowers sitting on my table. I hadn't seen them there before. "Dear Kaylie," he read. "Still thinking about last night. Yours, 'J'." A stupid, sloppy grin spread over my face. "He must've dropped them off while I was out shopping." I snatched the card from Jay's hand and read it myself. "So who is he?" "We went on a date, Jay. Don't worry, he's perfectly safe." "You don't know that, Kaylie," he warned me. "He could have been sent to get close to you and find out if you're a threat, or he could even just be an ignorant pawn. Who knows?" "That's not it Jay, he's just a nice guy who happens to like me." "Then how did he get these flowers in here?" Jay challenged. "Your door was locked when I came, and there were no signs of tampering. Unless he scaled the side of your building and let himself in through your balcony, which by the way should be kept locked, he's got some hidden talents." I refused to comment. He sighed. "Just give me his name, Kaylie. I'll do a thorough background check; maybe trail him of a couple days just to make sure he's clean." "He's clean," I insisted. "I'm not going to tell you his name. That would be a betrayal of trust." "Fine," He snapped. "Then give me the card and I'll run handwriting and fingerprint analysis on it." I backed away from him, holding the card close to me. "Don't you dare take this card, Jason." I used his full name, hoping it would drive the point home. I couldn't exactly tell him that the reason I was so sure of my new boyfriend was that he happened to be a superhero, and that I couldn't even tell him Jor's real name if I wanted to. "Can't you trust my instincts on this?" I pleaded. "I *know* he's clean." Jay gave a defeated sigh, and collapsed on the sofa. "Okay, fine. I'll trust your judgment. It's just that I worry about you. If someone ever found out what you really do then your whole life would be torn apart. You'd have to be undercover for the rest of your life." "Why are you really here, Jay?" He didn't speak for a moment, just massaged his temples. He was always getting headaches since that one time in Taiwan. "I'm being transferred to L.A.," he finally admitted. The news came as a heavy punch in the gut. We were being split up? "What? They can't… But what about The Scorpion?" I gave the code name for Sproxton. It had been ingrained in us to never, ever speak the real names of targets on the off chance that there was a bug planted in the room. "Kaylie, I know that you think he's the one. But the reality is there are three other guys who are just as likely. We have to try to investigate them too." "It's him, I know it is," I insisted. "I just need more time. I'll get the evidence." "I believe you, Kaylie. I, of all people, know how good your instincts are, they've gotten us out of a million scrapes in the past." He gestured for me to sit beside him on the sofa. "But the best way for me to help you is to rule out the other guys first and then come back here." "Dad always trusted you more than me," I muttered. I couldn't believe he was taking Jay away from me. We had been a team ever since our very first assignment. To my dismay I felt a hot prickle rising up behind my eyes. "Kaylie, Dad does trust you. It's just that resources are thin right now and we have to be as efficient as possible." "I'll get the evidence I need," I said with determination, furiously blinking the tears back. "I'll nail him, you'll see." "I know you will, Kaylie. Just don't do anything stupid to try to prove yourself, ok?" I smiled faintly. It was the typical exchange in our partnership. Each of us warning the other against being crazy, each of us ignoring the advice. "I'm going to miss you, Jay." "Don't worry, Kaylie. You'll be keeping pretty busy with this great new guy of yours." He stood up to leave. "When I come back I expect to meet him." "You'll have to come out from undercover to do that," I remarked. "Judging by the dopey smile on your face the minute you saw those flowers, I think it might be worth it." His face sobered. "Be careful with him, okay, Kaylie? Even if he is clean, you can't tell him about you and risk blowing the whole mission." "I know," I replied softly as I let him out of the apartment. It was rule number one that had been drilled into our heads since the very first day. Never tell anyone the truth. Ever. ********** Chapter Seven ********** *** He knocked nervously on her apartment door and waited for her to answer. It had been bad this time. She had just been talking about how he always seemed to be running off on her, and asking him if that meant there was a problem with the relationship when he picked up a police radio. School shooting. He had had to go. Of course by the time he returned she was long gone. The door opened abruptly, catching him off guard. Although she must have just gotten home from work she had already changed into sweats and pulled her long brown hair back in a ponytail. Amanda had always joked that the reason she had gotten a Theatre degree was so that she could wear stretch pants to work and not look out of place. As The Daily Planet's Drama critic she did have to prescribe to the employee dress code, but that didn't stop her from changing the minute she got home. "Hi Mandy," Jon began hesitantly. "Did you decide to come over here to finish our conversation?" she asked. She crossed her arms in front of her defensively. "Um, yeah. Can I come in?" Mandy wordlessly opened the door wider to allow Jon to step into her apartment. He led them over to the kitchen table where they sat across from each other. "Are we going to actually finish the conversation this time?" she asked scathingly. "Or will you suddenly have to return another library book or something?" Jon winced. After almost thirty years of being in the business, the Kent family had yet to manufacture more convincing excuses. "Look Mandy… I-I know that things have been rocky between us for the last while." "That's an understatement," she said wryly. "But things are going to change now. Everything will be different, I promise." It'll be better, Jon promised himself. Once he told her the truth, everything would change for the better. "Why is it going to be different, Jon?" she asked. "Are you going to stop running away from me every time I want to talk about something important? Are you going to start acting like I matter to you?" He should've told her earlier, he thought to himself. He'd already hurt her so much with his constant lying. "Mandy," he began slowly, "I want to tell you something that I've wanted to tell you for a long time. But I couldn't as it's not just my secret. Letting you in on it is big step and it's something I wouldn't do if you weren't so important to me. But once you know it, it's your secret, too, and you can't tell any one else." "Okay," she said warily. "I actually have a good reason for running out all the time. It isn't because I don't care about you or because I don't want to hear what you have to say." He took a breath to collect himself. "It's because I have a… Well, I guess you could call it a second job." Amanda's forehead wrinkled in concentration. "And whenever you run off when I'm trying to talk to you or when you're late for a date, you're off doing this second job?" "Yeah." "Jon, what kind of job makes you run off at odd hours and is such a secret that you can't tell anyone?" "Well, Mandy," Jon reached up and drew his glasses off his face. "The thing is: I'm Supernova." And everything changed. *** * * * I had always hated going to the dentist, and this day was no exception. My previous dentist had sold off his practice to a guy who looked a little too chisel happy to put me at ease so I had been forced to switch to a new practice in a new building. Dr Brack had been recommended by one of the teachers at Riverview, so hopefully it would be worth the long trek into a relatively unfamiliar part of town. I glanced once again at the scrap of paper in my hand, then back up at the street sign at the corner. I still needed to walk two more blocks south before I got to the street where Dr Brack's office was. I set off down the street, sipping my coffee. I could never remember if you were supposed to refrain from eating or drinking an hour before or an hour after you went to see the dentist. Oh well, H.G. Brack could endure my coffee breath for the half hour checkup I was scheduled for, he was certainly being paid enough. Still maintaining the quick pace I always set when walking in the city, I checked the scrap of paper again. Wait; was that a five or a six? I stopped abruptly to take a closer look at my colleague's scrawled writing, and I was bumped harshly from behind. The motion knocked against the arm that held my coffee, and I ended up spilling it all over my cream-colored suit jacket. "Oh! Sorry!" My accidental attacker bent down and fumbled to pick up my dropped cup. "It's okay," I assured him. "I shouldn't have stopped so suddenly." I brushed my hand absentmindedly over my ruined jacket. "I'm really sorry," he repeated. And this time I noticed a weird undertone to his words, a sort of awkward quality that went beyond the expected embarrassment. He stood up again, adjusting his glasses and staring at the ground. "Well, I should um…" He gestured vaguely with his thumb in the direction that he no doubt had been going when he bumped into me. "Sorry," he said again. Then he looked at me. It was a sweeping glance before he started walking away down the street. We made eye contact for less than a second, yet it was long enough for an electric jolt to shoot through me. I watched the man's suit-jacketed back disappearing among the crowds of people walking down the sidewalk. It couldn't possibly be… Could it? * * * As it turned out, Jor gave me the perfect opening that night to question him. He arrived at my apartment later than we had originally agreed. Weeks after our first date, we had started to fall into a routine of sorts. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "There was an oil spill off the coast and we were all helping out with the clean up." "I saw it on the news," I replied. We shared the customary kiss that had quickly become second nature to the both of us. "Then I had to go back to my apartment and get cleaned up a bit," he continued. I handed him a freshly doctored cup of coffee and he nodded his thanks. "Do you have any idea how difficult crude oil is to get out of your hair? Not to mention the stains it's going to leave on my suit." Bingo. The perfect opening. "I guess you end up with all kinds of crazy stuff on that uniform," I commented nonchalantly. He shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe I should ask you for some laundry advice." "Why, you got any stained spandex hidden away?" he teased. His back was to me, putting in the movie I had chosen for tonight while I was still in the kitchen fiddling with my coffee. "No spandex," I replied, "but I did get coffee spilled all over my favorite blazer today. This complete idiot bumped into me on the street and knocked my coffee cup right out of my hand." Jor stiffened, and I could see a red blush crawling up his neck. Oh, he was so busted. "R-really?" he asked nervously, keeping his head and neck suspiciously rigid. "Yeah, but it wasn't all that bad. The guy was really cute," I drawled. "I might try looking him up and asking him out on a date sometime. That is, if things don't work out between us." Jor whirled around and gave me such a deer-in-the-headlights look that I couldn't hold out any longer. I grabbed a nearby throw pillow and chucked it at his head. "You brat!" I exclaimed. "It was you! You were following me!" "I wasn't following you!" he exclaimed defensively. I gave him a long steady look. "I was just kind of… going where you were going. But how did you recognize me?" he asked incredulously. "My superior feminine intuition," I claimed. "Seriously." "Seriously?" I thought for a moment. "The biggest clue was that I knew that Supernova is just a disguise. I knew that you were out there wandering around as a normal ordinary guy for most of the time, so I was looking for you among the ordinary. Also, knowing your voice and mannerisms was a huge clue. And I mean your real voice and mannerisms, not the façade you pull for the public." We both sat down together on the sofa. "Well, I'm suitably impressed." Jor wrapped his arm around me and drew me close as we shared a kiss. "Just don't ever say a word about it around my mother." "What? She didn't figure out the secret identity as fast?" "It took her two years," Jor replied. "And she knew my dad both as a superhero and an ordinary man. My mom's not exactly the type who likes being fooled." "I don't think any woman enjoys that feeling." "Did I really ruin your jacket?" Jor asked sheepishly. "It'll be fine," I reassured him. "And it's not really my favorite, don't worry." I peered at his face interestedly, trying to match it up with the man I had seen earlier today. "So if you weren't following me exactly, where were you going?" "I can't tell you that," Jor replied. "Oh c'mon Jor," I wheedled. "I think it's a fair exchange: A ruined jacket for a glimpse into the secret life of Jor 'Spaceboy' Supernova. You don't have to tell me specifics or anything, just a general idea." "All right, fine," he conceded. "I was coming back from my lunch break on my way to work." "Hmm… Very revealing." We had done this before. Jor would give me some sort of useless trivia about his life and I would try to interpret as much as I could about it. "You work in the Central Business District, home to many offices and other places of business that employ thousands of people. So you have a white collar job." "What makes you think I work in one of the buildings?" Jor challenged. "I could be a construction worker or someone like that who's working on or around the buildings and not actually in them." "Nice try, Spaceboy, you're not going to get me off the trail that easily. You were wearing a suit jacket and tie, which is not the traditional outfit of a construction worker. Also that rules out any profession that requires a uniform. I guess being Supernova is enough of a uniform that you don't feel the need to wear one when you're not saving the world." I tapped his chest where the S crest sat, and he smiled in confirmation. "Then there's the matter of your lunch break." He cocked an eyebrow in my direction. "What does that have to do with anything?" "It was after two when we collided, which is a little late for lunch. That probably means you work in a fast-paced environment where lunch is sometimes put on hold to make room for business." "Have I ever told you that you're brilliant?" "Frequently. But you can always tell me it again." I tilted my chin up, silently asking for another kiss, but I could sense some kind of hesitation. I dropped my playful attitude and looked at him seriously. "Jor, you know that I would never go against your wishes and try to find out who you are, right?" "I know," he replied hesitantly. "And even though I know what you look like now, that doesn't change anything. When you think about it, how many people work in that area? There's Chow Towers, The Daily Planet, LNN, and the old LuthorCorp building all within the same few blocks, and those are just the big ones, not even counting the smaller buildings and companies. And I'm hardly ever in that area of the city so it's unlikely that I'll bump into you as you again." "All right." "I would never betray your trust like that. This relationship is too important for me to risk it by doing something so stupid." Jor smile faintly and I felt him relax beside me. "I know that, Kaylie. And the way you've handled the… oddities of this relationship is so amazing. Thank you for understanding." He finally drew me in for the long awaited kiss, and we spent several minutes cuddling together on the sofa before I finally broke the silence. "So glasses, huh?" "Yeah. They're actually made with leaded lenses. I started wearing them when I was fifteen and I couldn't control my X-ray vision. I just kind of stuck with them ever since and it helps to maintain the disguise." I closed my eyes and scrunched my face, bringing the face of Jor's alter ego to my mind. "I think I like them," I decided. "With the glasses and your hair looser it makes you look softer somehow. I think I could get used to that someday." I fiddled with his hair the way it was now, slicked back with copious use of gel. "So," I began, changing subjects completely, "I have a bit of a favor to ask you." "You know I'd do just about anything for you." "Well it's not just for me," I explained hesitantly. "It's also for twenty-five students and a fellow staff member at Riverview." His raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're going to have to explain that one a bit more, Kaylie." "My friend Thea and I are responsible for getting a speaker to come and talk to the graduating class about this time of year to get them thinking about their futures. Going to college or a trade school maybe. Most deadlines for applications are coming up soon and we want as many of our students as possible to continue with their education. We were going to have one of the city councilors come but she cancelled. I guess increased property taxes are more important than students at Riverview. A lot of things are more important than students at Riverview," I added a little bitterly. "Let me guess," Jor began, "you wanted to know if Supernova would be available to make an appearance." "Only if you want to," I rushed to clarify. "You don't have to if you don't want to, there's no pressure." "Of course I want to, Kaylie. What would make you think I wouldn't want to?" "Well, I just didn't want it to look like I was taking advantage of having you as a boyfriend. I didn't want you to think I was using your identity for selfish reasons." "Kaylie, it's hardly selfish to want the best for your students. When am I supposed to come for this speech?" "Next Friday," I reply with a grin. "I'll be there." * * * I hadn't done any serious drawing since my university days, but tonight after Jor had left it felt very comforting to be able to sit down again with thick paper and a smudgy stub of charcoal pencil. Flying in the face of artistic convention, I started with the glasses. Rectangular in shape, deep red in color, they were very stylish and contemporary. I saw these glasses as the heart of his identity. They were the polar opposite of Supernova, creating the illusion of imperfection instead of projecting godliness. I drew the shape of his head around the glasses and began to fill in the rest of his features. Although my stub came out as only grey, I still thought in color. The hair was a rich brown, lighter than his slicked down style suggested. He wore it freer when he was himself. I could see its softness in my imagination and I yearned to touch it with my fingers. It looked longer too, the way he wore it. Maybe the flattened hair gave the illusion of a shorter cut or something. It was messier too, rumpled and tousled. I could see this man right now, sitting at his desk, shoving his hand into his hair, burying it among the loose strands and shaking out any semblance of order. He had an expressive mouth. Its shape twisted and turned in response to his emotions. It tightened almost imperceptivity at the corners when he was nervous or worried, it broke wide open when he smiled, and hung loose sloppily when he was shocked. Inviting lips that were sensitive and powerful all at once and that never failed to pull me towards him. His eyebrows lay thick over his eyes. Always twitching, quirking, tilting, pinching, rising, moving, they told me the story of his mind. A straight nose pointed downward to a strong chin. Strong, but not hard, nothing about this man was hard. His ears were maybe the only aspect that could be considered a flaw. They were big. Just a smidgen, just a hair. The glasses especially brought attention to them. They humanized him. I loved those ears. I drew the eyes last of all. I had spent countless hours staring into those eyes and I could map them as easily as I could map the south bank of the Hobbs River (which, by the way, I could do very easily). To say they were brown would be to negate the incredible power of those eyes. The flecks of gold that burst forth and the ravines of darkness that dipped further down created such movement, such passion within his eyes that made 'brown' a tragedy of a term. And last of all, that glint of spirit hidden within. That special spark that snuck out and zapped me every time he came to see me. There. Done. I pulled my focus back to take in the picture as a whole. There was my boyfriend, the real man. Although I saw Jor in him, there was a certain quality about this picture that I recognized as something else. Someone else who I hadn't met yet. I could find him with this picture. The face recognition software I had access to through my contacts would come up with maybe a dozen matches and based on what little trivia I knew I could find out who he was. But I wouldn't. I had promised him I would wait. Walking over to my fireplace, I picked up the lighter and flicked it on; flames spurted up onto the paper and devoured his face. I tossed the picture into the hearth and watched it evaporate into ash. I would wait. ********** Chapter Eight ********** Despite the advice of numerous comic books, generic crime novels, and bad movies; it is not a good idea to participate in any amount of breaking and entering while wearing all black. Think about it: If you were to see a stranger dressed head to toe in black prowling around a street at night while wearing gloves and peering at doorknobs, the first thing you would do is call the police. Also, as much as I wanted to avoid the local authorities, I equally didn't want to do anything that might cause Sproxton to get suspicious. I had pretty much ruled out the idea of video surveillance, but that didn't mean that he hadn't posted plants along the street to keep an eye on things. So I had to be careful. Although I labored to avoid certain predictable clichés in my work, it appeared that Sproxton had no such qualms. The place that I had followed him to a couple nights ago looked like it had been pulled out of a textbook for evil bad-guy hideouts. It was some kind of abandoned warehouse along Hobbs Bay, an area that had long since fallen into a slum. By now, Sproxton would be sitting down for his weekly meeting with Intergang officials as they negotiated towards a deal. My work at The Gentleman's Club had given me next to nothing so far, so I decided to give Catty Collins the night off. It was time for… umm… 'some random homeless person' to take charge. Okay, so maybe I hadn't put as much background work into this disguise as I should have. If Jay were here, he would've chewed me out. But what I lacked in preparation I made up for in exuberance. I wore an old tattered outfit that was more patches than anything. A dark toque was pulled over my matted hair and I wore thick gloves despite the warm spring weather. The casual observer wouldn't know that the hat and matted hair were to prevent any hairs from falling out while I was in the building and that the gloves were to prevent fingerprints. But among all that stuff, the most effective element of my disguise was the amount of dirt on my person. Seriously, dirt is the single best disguise available. First of all, it grosses people out so much that they won't even want to look at you for very long. Also, people tend to turn away because they're embarrassed and they won't give you money. Not that I've never gotten money. A couple years ago, I was on stakeout and I made over thirty dollars in one night. But that's beside the point. To accompany my disguise, I walked slowly and with a hunch, barely glancing up from the dirty street. I shuffled up to the door and tried the doorknob, knowing that it would be locked. I then rummaged in my handbag, which of course matched the outfit I wore, and pulled out a rusted old pry bar. I made a show of clumsily wrenching at the door before breaking the lock and entering the warehouse. I had left quite a mark on the door with my purposefully amateur lock jimmying, but that was all part of the plan. Sproxton was smart. He would notice if there was any signs of tampering on his door at all so my next best move was to distract him with some obvious scratches and hope he would pass over the more skilled ones. The actual warehouse was empty, but there was a little corner office that I spotted to my right that seemed to be the only logical place for a criminal hideaway. This time I used a more delicate approach to opening the door, bringing out a series of thin metal tools, and being extra careful not to scratch the area around the lock. Once inside, I removed my dirty outdoor gloves to reveal clean latex ones. That way I wouldn't get any suspicious dirt on any of the surfaces in here. The room inside was a sterilized version of a personal office. The walls were covered with a nasty shade of green that had last been applied some time ago. There was a desk and chair in the center of the room with a small lamp and pencil cup sitting atop it. The only other furnishing in the room was a dented metal filing cabinet in the far corner. I didn't have much time. I was already taking a huge risk just by coming here without backup, and I didn't need to increase that risk by hanging around this office waiting for Sproxton to come back from The Gentleman's Club. I quickly flipped through the file folders in the cabinet, looking for names that I didn't recognize as legit operations. 'Project Titan' was at the very back of the drawer. I brought it out and began taking pictures of each and every page with my digital camera. I would read the actual contents of the file when I was safer. Once I finished taking the pictures, I slipped the papers back into the folder and placed it in the exact same spot I had found it, then eased the drawer shut. I visually scanned the room making sure everything was left exactly the way it was before I entered, then shut the door after me, making sure it was locked. Now it was time to distract Sproxton. I took out the pry bar I had used on the outside door and made a couple of clumsy gashes on his office door, but being sure to keep the lock intact. Then I emptied the disgustingly dirty purse I carried with me and gathered all the garbage I had collected previously into a small pile which I lit on fire. The general story I was going for was that a squatter had managed to break the outside lock and come in for some shelter. The squatter tried to break the office door, maybe looking for valuables, but failed. Then the squatter used what little junk he or she had to create a small fire to warm him or herself. With luck, Sproxton would buy it, and wouldn't look too closely at any other evidence I may have inadvertently left. I double checked that my camera was still in my purse, and then shifted into the same pitiable women who had broken in as I shuffled back outside. * * * *** Jon walked over to Amanda's desk that morning cautiously, trying to gauge the mood she was in. "Hi, Mandy," he said hesitantly. "Hey," she said, glancing up at him, giving him a small smile. "How was your night after I left?" "I was up late," she replied. "Thinking through things." Jon sat down at the chair opposite her. "And?" "And I don't know yet, Jon." She sighed. "It's going to take me a while to adjust to the new reality." She picked up her mug and took a sip, grimacing at the cold coffee. "Ugh." "Here." Jon pulled down his glasses and stared at the cup as the liquid inside began to heat up. "Are you…?" Amanda wrapped her hands around the cup to feel its new warmth. "Wow. I didn't think you did stuff like that here. You know, in public." "Only when other people aren't watching," he explained. "I don't want to do anything to make them suspicious." Noting her thunderstruck expression, he bent in closer to her. "Are you okay, Mandy?" "Yes. No. Argh! I don't know," she admitted exasperatedly. "I'm just not sure what to do with all of this. This whole thing about being one of the only people outside your immediate family who knows the secret is scary. It puts a ton of pressure on our relationship and I guess right now I really need you to-" A police siren drowned out the words she said next. "Could you hold onto that thought, Mandy?" Jon interrupted. "I've gotta run, there's an emergency I have to help out with." He stood and exited the newsroom, failing to hear the words she spoke next. "I really need you to be supportive." *** * * * "Okay everyone!" I called the class to order. "As you all know we have a special guest coming to talk to us today so please get settled into your seats and we can get started." "Miss S?" "Yes, Sarah?" "Is it that councilwoman who's going to come today?" "No, she ditched on us, didn't she, Miss S?" "City council was holding a vote on a very important matter today, Rob. Mrs. Stanford had to be at the meeting." At least Mrs. Stanford *thought* it was important. I had a different opinion, but of course I didn't say any of that to the class. It was hard enough to teach some of these students to respect society without espousing my own contentions. "Mrs. Burg wouldn't tell us who was coming," another student complained. "That's because Miss Stewart wouldn't tell me either." My friend Thea winked at me from the back of the classroom. "Are you gonna tell us now, Miss S?" "Yeah, who's coming to speak to us?" Jor had probably been listening behind the door, waiting for the perfect cue to enter because right after Rob asked that question the door to the classroom burst open and Supernova strode confidently into the room. I shared in the collective gasp with the class. His boots shone, his cape flapped majestically in the air-conditioner created breeze, and he proudly bore the crest of the House of El on his chest. He held his head erect, and his posture was flawlessly rigid. I hadn't seen him like this since our very first meeting in that alleyway almost three months ago. Seeing him acting like a superhero again after all the time we had spent together casually gave me a bit of a shock. Luckily I was able to compose myself as he drew up to me and stuck out his hand to shake mine. "Supernova," I clasped his hand. "Thank you so much for joining us this afternoon. All the students here are very excited to meet you. I'm sure it must've been difficult to come on such short notice." "Thank you, Miss Stewart," he replied stoically, "Nothing is to too much trouble when it comes to giving to the community." At that moment I couldn't recall if he actually sounded like that when he was Supernova in public or if he was just hamming it up for my benefit. Whatever the motivation, I struggled to maintain a straight face. "I'm sure your visit today will be something that the students will remember for years to come." "And I hope that Riverview as a whole will also benefit from this visit." Jor reached behind his back, drawing out an envelope and held it out to me. "I understand you've been searching for funds to pay for a new computer lab here. The Superman Foundation has decided to offer their support to the cause." The sudden gift stunned me. He hadn't mentioned anything about possibly donating something to the school. "T-thank you!" I squeaked, and tried to bring myself under control. "Your support is very much appreciated." I grasped the envelope, and there was an intense pause between the two of us as we both caught each other's eyes. At our first meeting I had found his nobler-than-thou attitude irritating, but now that I was seeing him in the suit for the first time in quite a while I found it kind of… Well, you know. A fierce blush roared across my face. I cleared my throat and hastily made my way to the back of the classroom to join Thea before my body language betrayed me any more. As it turned out, I was far from safe from the scrutiny of others. "Okay, spill it," Thea murmured in my ear. It was a large classroom and we were far enough out of everyone's way for us to carry on a quiet conversation. "What are you talking about?" I asked innocently. "You and Supernova," she explained. "There's something going on between the two of you." I forced a scoff out of the back of my throat while fighting the sudden nervousness rising in my stomach. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Thea. I just got him to come speak to the class, that's the only reason why I know him." "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get one of them to come out to an event?" Thea retorted. "You have to write to the Superman Foundation in advance and explain all about your organization, providing a ton of background information and even then there's no guarantee someone will come. We're talking months of planning in advance and you managed to get a hold of him in a little over a week. And I can tell just by the way you were looking at him, Kaylie. You guys have some kind of history and I want to hear all about it." My dad had taught me that if someone has cornered you with the truth and you are forced to admit something, it is best to only admit as little as you can get away with, that way your accuser is placated but the majority of your secret is still intact. "Okay, fine," I surrendered. "He saved me from some muggers downtown but during the rescue I accidentally twisted my ankle. He felt bad about it, and asked me if there was anything he could do to make it up. I couldn't think of anything at the time but when the whole Melinda Stanford problem came up I called in my favor." "Hmm," she mused. "I would've asked for a thorough kissing if I was you." "Thea!" I exclaimed, my face instantly heating up as I tried desperately to avoid thinking of all the times he *had* given me a thorough kissing. Very thorough. "What?" she asked calmly. "Supernova hands you carte blanche and all you can think of is your class? Kaylie, I've said this before and I'll say it again: you need to get yourself some action." * * * Thea's comments worried me more than I wanted to admit. Hiding my real emotions and motives should have been something close to second nature for me, but apparently all it took was keen observance on Thea's part to see right through me. I also received another blow to my esteem when I was finally able to review the pictures