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Message-ID: <47423asstr$1081761002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Imagineer <imagin8r47@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Cruel Summer 43 {Imagineer} (MF reluc viol ScFi)
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Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2004 05:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Cruel Summer

copyright 2001-2004 by Imagineer.

comments to 
imagineer 47: yahoo green eggs com ham
but without the green eggs or ham

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Imagineer/www/


// 43: Finished


  Max dusted himself off. He was lucky to be alive. Even though
Sapphire had diverted the explosion away from the building, he'd been
standing right on the edge of her forcefield. Somehow, he'd been locked
in its grip, his body pinned in place as first the hot wind pressed
down on him, then the hotter flames licked at him as they rushed and
then rolled past, then stopped and rushed back, tugging at him to join
them in the center of the maelstrom.

  He should be in agony, but he wasn't. His shoulder should be
throbbing from where he'd been shot, but it wasn't. He should feel
drained and weak from his attacks on Sapphire, but he wasn't.

  He'd never felt better. He'd never felt more powerful. 

  He'd been held fast at the edge of Sapphire's energy, feeling it push
through him to confront the wall of white-hot flame and curl back from
it.

  And the amulet had been there to collect its return.

  Max leaped up onto the dock, rushing to his Queen's side. She lay
unconscious, but breathing. Max reached inside her mind, brushing aside
fear and hatred, installing a calm resolve.

  Soon, my Queen, we will take our place as gods.

  Max turned to locate the tool of his ascension. The roadway was
littered with chunks of concrete; a fine mist of the stuff still hung
in the air. But the sapphires' last gasp had cleared a thirty-foot
circle of debris. And at its center lay a delicately-curled young woman
caressed by gossamer blue fabric.

  Max jumped down, crossing the roadway to stand over the heroine's
still form. So beautiful, even now. So feminine. So fragile. So small.
It was hard to believe that such a girl had been a vessel for so much
power, even as he felt the awesome hum of its reflection through the
amulet. He had never felt such energy before. Previous encounters with
the sapphires' energy had been mere shadows, scarcely preparing him for
the might of this moment. The energy coursed through him, pulsing and
throbbing, testing his resolve to contain it. It was little wonder that
it had broken such a frail thing as the girl who now lay at his feet.

  A breeze blew gently across the circle, rousing the girl's
insubstantial costume but not the girl herself. The world was strangely
silent in the aftermath of such terrible concussive forces.

  Time seemed to stand still in tribute to Fang Manxie's triumph.

  Sound eventually returned. The soft scratching of the bodyguards at
the other end of the corridor finally stirring. The gentle rush of
distant automobiles. The pebbling of settling debris. His own
breathing. Max pushed these to the background as he focused on claiming
his prize.

  Max knelt next to the fallen superheroine. Hands quickly went to work
stripping her of her adornments. Crown freed from disheveled hair.
Wristbands pulled away from gloved hands. Shoes slipped off
stocking-clad feet.

  "Get your damn hands off her!"

  Max froze where he knelt. He reached out with his mind, and was
immediately hammered by a wash of righteous hate.

  "Put the sapphires down."

  Max held fast.

  "I said, put 'em down." He heard the young man step forward. He heard
his rapid breathing. And felt the barrel of the gun at the top of his
neck.

  Max was unafraid. 
  He mentally pushed a command: drop the gun.
  But the pressure on his neck was unrelenting.
  So he tried a different approach. What he couldn't command, he could
crush...


  Ricky suddenly went stiff. His whole body screamed in silent pain. 
  He tried to pull the trigger.
  He tried to move.
  He tried to breathe.
  He listened in rising panic for a heartbeat... and heard only
deafening silence.


  Max quickly stood, flipping his head back against the gun to tip the
immobilized teen over. He turned to watch the youth angle back, slowly
rotating to his side like a felled tree. Max released his grip on the
boy's brain just before he landed. 


  The impact both knocked the wind out of and into Ricky at once as he
awoke from his terrifying momentary death with a desperate gasp. The
pistol fell from the young man's hand, forgotten as every muscle flexed
to yank life back from the edge of eternity. Max deftly kicked it clear
of danger.

  "Perhaps I cannot control what you think, but I still hold sway over
you, boy. You shall not stand in my way again."

  The Hunter turned away from his writhing victim to attend to his
Black Widow Queen.


  Max gently lifted Valerie's sleeping form off the dock, turning back
toward the retaining wall and freedom beyond. As he passed the still
gasping Ricky, the young man's hand shot out to grab his ankle. Max
stopped, looking down on the bulging-eyed face, at once deathly afraid
and grimly determined. Max marveled at the strength of will that kept
the boy from being reduced to quivering animal self-preservation. In a
moment of irrelevent merciful dismissal, Max drew a curtain of darkness
down on Ricky's mind.

  Val awoke. There was a moment of suspicion on her face, but it
quickly faded as Max imperceptibly caressed her mind. 

  "You're always there for me, Max," she said softly, before collapsing
in his arms. 

  Max threw his unconscious queen over his shoulder and carried her
across the roadway, up through the rubble. Distant sirens spurred him
across the street and past the hollow buildings to the park beyond.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Bates hefted his large frame out of the back of the limo with some
effort. His face was bloodied and swollen; his men could only imagine
the damage inflicted over the rest of his body and the pain he must
have been feeling. By comparison, being blown off their feet by the
Sapphire-damped periphery of an explosion when most of the blast's
force had been shunted across the street didn't seem so bad.

  "Listen up!" Bates barked; his voice boomed in the semi-tunnel of the
loading dock, grabbing his subordinates' attention. "I don't want
panic! Keep people inside, off the docks!" He gave his men a quick
verbal spin to keep partygoers calm and avoid a dangerous rush for the
exits -- or a serious scandal: "Tell them it was just a show, the
explosion was just a technical glitch, nothing to be concerned about,
just some minor cosmetic damage. No panic! They can leave or stay for
the rest of the party! All drinks are on me!"

  His men had picked themselves up off the pavement by now, and were
looking at him, stunned.

  "Go!" he commanded; they snapped to comply.

  He turned to Spicoli. "Get Security on the line. Give them the same
instructions. And get an ambulance." 

  Bates called out to Leon, the man who'd chased the boy down; closest
to the explosion, he still sat on the ground, shaking his head. "Leon!
Go help Sapphire! Find out if she's all right!" The man scrambled to
his feet, looking around, confused: where did the kid go?

  "Now!" Bates bellowed. Leon took off running down the roadway, toward
the ring of chunked concrete and settling dust.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Ricky shook off the pain of the Hunter's fading mental shadow and
rushed to Angela's side. She lay horrifyingly still, one arm stretched
out above her head, the other turned away from her hip; her legs were
splayed awkwardly, feet still clad in sheer ruffled socks unmoved from
where the Hunter had dropped them.

  Ricky was overcome with anxious grief. "What did he do to you?" His
mother had been taken from him when he was a small child; he feared
that he had now lost Angela too. "Oh God, please, no, not her too,
don't take her too." 

  Ricky gently cradled her head; his heart quickened as he felt a
pulse, but it felt weak, and her body was heavy and limp. He tenderly
brushed the hair out of her closed eyes. "Come back to me, Angela.
Don't go. Please don't go. I love you." 
  Tears fell from his cheeks to hers as he began to sob. 

  "Please."

  She took a breath.

  He held his as he watched her eyelids flutter open.

  They stared into each other's eyes for an eternity. Surprise gave way
to relief; relief gave way to joy.

  For a long time, neither could find words. So much to explain. So
many apologies. So many emotions. So much hurt. So much hope.
  Finally, Ricky spoke.

  "Hi." 

  He smiled as he blinked back his tears.

  "Hi," she answered. The simple word meant nothing. And everything. 

  Her smile told the story of a long-lost girl's bliss at being found.

  "You saved me," she said, her voice barely a whisper, made with great
effort. "Again."

  Ricky suddenly lifted her into his arms, holding her as tight as he
could, gently rocking back and forth. 
  "You saved all of us," he wept. "I thought I'd lost you."

  After a moment, Angela stiffened. Ricky relaxed his hold, cradling
her in one arm.

  "The sapphires..." Angela said weakly. She struggled to get up, but
could do little more than flop her limbs lamely. The obvious pain she
felt from movement was nothing compared to the helpless terror on her
face; it hurt Ricky to see her fear. And yet he sensed that she didn't
fear for herself, but for what could happen if her power remained in
the hands of the wicked. 

  Again she tried to rise. Ricky's heart swelled at the bravery of his
little heroine. The magnitude of her selflessness inspired him. "I'll
take care of it," he said, easing her back down to the ground. "You
stay here." He stood and stepped away. 

  "Ricky, no..." Angela called out, trying desperately to get up but
able to do nothing more than roll onto her side. Her body felt distant,
fuzzy, sluggish. She looked up to see Ricky addressing a very large
man. She struggled to stay conscious against overwhelming exhaustion.


  Leon arrived just as the young man laid the girl back down and stood
up. "Take her inside," he ordered. The lad's voice carried a purpose
and authority far beyond his years. "See that she's taken care of. I'm
going after the Hunter and Black Widow."

  Leon was no leader, but still, under any other circumstances, the
idea of taking orders from a teenage boy little more than half his size
would have seemed ridiculous. But now, seeing the way the young man
stood there over this girl whose life he'd saved so that she could save
them all, seeing the pain on his face and the fiery determination in
his eyes, Leon felt neither doubt nor hesitation as he lifted the
fragile young woman in his arms.

  Ricky's hand reached into Leon's sportcoat pocket, pulling out the
big man's phone and dropping another one in its place. "I need to
borrow your phone. Leave my phone with her."

  Leon watched the slender young man sprint away, bounding up through
the chunks of broken retaining wall to the street beyond.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Max looked around. The park was deserted. His wound stung with every
move of his arm, but he brushed aside the pain. Soon there would be no
pain. Soon he would be rid of weakness.

  "Wake up, my love." It was as much a command as an entreaty. "It is
time." His hand flipped up her tattered skirt and tore open the gusset
of her panties.

  He saw her eyes open in surprise as he entered her. But she did not
resist; the veil he laid over her mind prevented it.

  Trees. Orange streetlights. Twinkling skyscrapers beyond. All began
to fade, replaced by an encompassing light. The beacon of their final
union.

  The light glowed brighter, whiter. It should have hurt his eyes, but
it did not. With the enveloping blue-white light came a rushing wind
sound -- a continuous "hush." Gravity ceased; he felt nothing but her,
wrapped around him, beneath him, embracing him. Her mind was an empty
field of pleasure now; no resistance, no hesitation, no thought, only a
blissful reflection of their union. They tumbled around each other,
joined at their centers. The light grew, illuminating them, making them
translucent, then luminescent, reflections and amplifications of the
light around them, almost pure white now, the fiercely peaceful rush of
white noise building with the light.


  Ricky stopped short when he saw it: a sphere of bright light, with a
pair of barely discernible silhouettes in its center, one laying atop
the other. No, not laying exactly; Ricky could see a rhythmic rising
and falling. They were fucking. Through the spheric mist of light he
could see brighter pinpoints, where he would have expected Black
Widow's and Sapphire's gemstones to be worn.

  Shit. What was he supposed to do now? He took cover behind a large
rock as his mind raced. His eyes squinted as the light grew brighter...
and the sphere grew larger...


  The light began to flicker; Max became aware of brief strobes of
infinite brightness, in time with their thrusts. Dimming as they
withdrew from each other, popping like a million flashbulbs in glorious
celebration of their deepest connection. It was wonderful.

  And Max became aware of the rushing sound's absence. Too lost in his
own turgid insistence to notice its passing, the silence seemed to
magnify and dissipate all sense of space. They were at once points in
an infinite realm and the whole of the universe. The total absence of
sound heightened his sense of his partner and of himself. No breathing,
no movement, no surroundings. Max felt his lover's excitement at their
ascension beginning to peak, as he could feel his own. The strobe
brightness increased, pulses becoming more and more frequent...

  ...and the spaces between becoming darker and darker.

  But Max could again see his Valerie, his Black Widow, his Queen. Her
head back, her eyes tightly shut, her smooth muscles clearly defined
beneath her hot skin, so close now, they were both so close...

  But their time did not yet come.

  Max pushed, reaching, striving for nirvana. He looked upon his lover,
wrapped so exquisitely around him, so expertly joined, their bodies
bathed in the blue glow of her sapphires, those on hands and feet
intersecting a sphere of blue light, the space around continuing to
fade to darkness, only the sphere strobing with their carnal efforts.
The sphere, connected to her sapphires, strobing in time with the
gemstones encircling his Queen's graceful neck, most of them simply
reflecting, but three of them spitting like stars perpetually repeating
the first instant of supernova...

  Three of them...

  Max thrust ever faster, his body desperate for release now, even as
his mind raised alarm. Three of them... his hand brought up between
them, sensing space between them, reaching for his Queen's necklace,
grasping at the spitting, hissing, flickering, angry stones, turning
the linked orbs around her neck. Three of them.

  Three of them.

  That made seven sapphires. But there were eight. There were eight!

  The sphere arced and shorted about their bodies as they now
frantically ground against each other, praying for release, for
disconnect. Pleasure faded with the light, but still they were
compelled to rut hopelessly against each other. His Queen's beauty
faded with her effort, tendons stretching taught, musculature
hardening, skin turning mottled and ashlike. Sound returned, a low
ominous rumble, building in volume, pounding in time with their
fevered, increasingly irregular pounding.

  She screamed.

  He looked down upon her in horror, as her image seemed to split;
vapor-shadows of her light form separated from her dark form, becoming
beauty and beast at once before the latter took hold.

  And her eyes held fear.

  Max felt pain now, spreading from his center, seizing at his muscles,
gripping him, squeezing him.

  The sphere of light turned in on itself now, falling inward, pulling
at them as it collapsed, running from the darkness.

  Her face was grotesque abject terror, her being clawing at his like a
drowning soul, unable to stop the sick thrusting between them.

  And the darkness took form as it rushed in toward them, stifling
them, suffocating them. Forms drew long, jagged, gnarled, smashing
through them into the angry red pinpoint at their center. Gruesome
beasts of unimaginable horror, demons hurtling into them, rending their
transcendent flesh, rushing from all sides, storming inward, crushing
inward... a thousand thousand hideous wraiths illuminated in the
endless blackness by the surging angry glow of seven sapphires, each
grasping the amulet as they poured into him and tore at his soul.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  A second rumble shook the building. Everyone on the floor froze for a
moment, remembering the terrible shudder that had nearly spelled their
collective doom only a few minutes before. But this new sound was gone
in an instant, and by comparison more distant. 

  Like everyone around them, Noel and Eric both ducked instinctively at
the sound; but the rumble quickly faded. A few standing outside had
noticed a strobelike flickering, like a rapid climax of fireworks over
the horizon before the boom, but when a few moments of collective
hushed trepidation brought no more activity, it was quickly forgotten,
a footnote to an evening of unbelieveable events. People in the massive
hall resumed their conversations, their random wanderings, their quiet
reflection. Somewhere someone thought to cue up some music.

  The two men resumed their slow search of the crowd. They'd heard
second-hand that someone had brought a young woman in from outside; it
had to be Angela.

  For some reason the explosion reminded Eric of his new partner's
gunshot wound. Noel's shoulder was dark and bloody; the temporary
bandage had soaked through. But the bleeding seemed to have stopped.
  "You sure you're okay?"
  "Yeah. She just nicked me."
  "With what, a grenade?"


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Angela gradually became away of a gentle hand stroking her face with
a wet cloth. She opened her eyes to see a young woman looking down at
her, cradling Angela's head in her lap. The woman smiled.

  "Where am I?" Angela asked, her voice hoarse. She took a deep breath;
her lungs burned, making her cough.
  "Hey, you're back," the woman said warmly. "I thought you'd be out
for a while after what you've been through. You're inside the
convention center. They found you outside on the loading dock." 

  Angela felt a dull blank in her memory.

  "Probably shock," the young woman soothed. She looked about the same
age as Angela. "Don't worry, it'll come back to you."

  "What happened?"
  The young woman gave Angela a smirk. "I was hoping you could tell me."

  "The bomb... was anyone hurt?" Angela sat up with a start, quickly
looking around.

  There were crowds of people milling about, sitting on pieces of
equipment, a mix of hushed tones, amazed discussions, and raucous
laughter. Dance music echoed in the background. The bright yellow-white
light of the overhead floods gave the place the feeling of a school
gymnasium.

  A few people nursed sprains or bumps on the head, but that was all.

  "No serious injuries. Not from the blast, anyway. Black Widow messed
up a couple of Bates' bodyguards really bad; I think she got to Bates
himself too. And there's rumors of a bunch of dead bodies up top, but
Security keeps saying no one was killed. Somebody said it was
terrorists and some government agent took them out, but not before they
triggered their bomb. They would have blown the roof off the place if
it hadn't been for Sapphire."

  Angela looked down at her bare feet and unadorned wrists. A hesitant
hand found nothing but hair atop her head. She suddenly remembered
waking up in the middle of the concrete roadway, laying at the center
of a thirty foot circle cleared of debris, with chunks of charred
concrete strewn for a hundred feet beyond in a semicircle blown away
from the building. Her sapphires and tiara had vanished. She remembered
Ricky, holding her. And she remembered him racing off after the Hunter
and Black Widow who'd taken her sapphires.

  "Oh God, Ricky!" She struggled to get up, but she still felt so
dizzy...
  "Relax," the young woman said. "He called a minute ago. He's on his
way back. He said to tell you 'they blew up.'"

  Angela settled back down. 'They blew up' -- the sapphires, no doubt,
but Black Widow? The Hunter? Probably victims of the sapphires' end.
She felt more relief than sadness at the news. It was over. And Ricky
was okay.

  "So what were you doing out there, anyway?" the young woman asked,
giving Angela a suspicious look.
  "I went outside to get some fresh air," Angela lied. "Then there was
an explosion. Next thing I know I'm here talking to you."

  "Come on, don't be modest. You saved all these people. You're a hero.
A superhero."

  But Sapphire was gone. Only Angela remained.

  "It wasn't me," she said quietly. "It was Sapphire."

  Her companion took a moment to ponder the comment. Modesty?
Protecting a secret identity? Preserving an aura of mystery? No, it was
something else. Almost like a goodbye.

  "If you say so," she finally dismissed. "So what's your name then?"
  "Angela."
  The young woman offered her hand; Angela shook it weakly.
  "Nice to meet you, Angela. My name's Claire."

  Angela raised an eyebrow at the name. Why was it familiar?

  "Nice outfit, by the way," Claire said, touching the fabric on
Angela's hip appreciatively. "I almost wore one just like it, but my
cousin talked me out of it at the last minute."


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Noel felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned to see Ricky standing
beside him.

  "Ricky Aquino, what the *hell* are you doing here?" Noel bellowed
with a mix of angry disapproval, confusion, and relief that only a
father can show towards a son.

  Ricky ignored the profanity; teasing his straight-laced father about
a slip of the tongue seemed petty in light of what they'd all been
through. "Angela was in trouble," he said simply.

  Eric noticed the bulge in the back of the young man's pants; he
suspected Detective Aquino would shit a brick if he knew his son was
packing, so Eric remained silent. But this unexpected discovery
suggested that Ricky had quite a story to tell. "What happened?" he
asked, trying and failing to hide anticipation with nonchalance.

  "Ginger's dead," Ricky said with a thankful sigh. 
  "Yeah, we saw the body," Eric dismissed what he already knew. "Shot
in the gut, with her own weapon judging from the size of the wound.
Appropriately painful and gruesome. But where've you been?"

  Noel chimed in with what he knew, expecting Ricky as a recent arrival
to know less than his father did. "We saw the damage outside. It looks
like a huge bomb went off, but the building itself is untouched; all
the damage is spread out away from the building. We heard one of Bates'
bodyguards say that he was out on the dock and saw Sapphire deflect the
explosion with a forcefield of bright light. I wouldn't believe it if I
hadn't seen what she could do firsthand."

  "So you pretty much know what happened then," Ricky said. (Noel was
surprised at his son's knowing reaction.) "Where's Angela? I told that
guy to bring her inside. I have to see if she's all right." He jumped
up on a barstool and then the bar itself, eyes scanning the crowd.

  "You told... that guy..." Noel started, connecting Ricky's words to
the bodyguard's story. "You were out on the docks! For heaven's sake,
Ricky, you could have been hurt!"

  Ricky looked sheepish, but only for a moment. "I did what I had to
do, dad," he shrugged. But he knew better than to volunteer any details
or his dad would only get more upset. He resumed scanning for signs of
his fallen heroine.

  Eric's enthusiasm overrode his awareness of the father-son dynamic.
"So you're the one who shot the Hunter to save Sapphire, then went
charging after The Hunter and The Black Widow after Sapphire fell. Did
you see the second explosion? You're obviously okay... what happened?"

  Ricky looked down from his perch, first blushing at the
cross/plaintive look his dad gave him, then shooting a 'thanks,
bigmouth' glare at Eric before answering. "I don't know, exactly. The
Hunter took Angela's, um, powers, and took off for the park with Black
Widow. I knew we couldn't let them get away with it; who knows what
those two would do with that kind of power? Somebody had to stop them."
  "It didn't have to be you, son," Noel said ruefully, even as he felt
a certain pride swelling within him.
  "Well, you were busy," Ricky shot back. Even Eric recognized the
significance of the son-to-father dig; clearly Ricky saw his father as
a hero figure, but the young man had found a strength of his own and
wanted Noel to recognize it. 

  Ricky continued. "Anyway, I found them in a clearing in the park, in
the center of a big sphere of blue-white light. I think they were...
having sex." There was really no better way to put it. "I could tell
Black Widow was wearing Angela's sapphires. I was thinking of what to
do when the light got bigger and brighter. I couldn't see them inside
anymore. I got out of there because it looked like it was gonna
explode, and then it did. I went back and it looked like a meteorite
impact crater -- all burned in the middle and trees flattened out from
the center. There was no sign of them. I don't know what happened. I
hope they're dead." His matter-of-fact description seemed disappointing
considering the fantastic strangeness and magnitude of the event. But
he didn't feel like gussying up his description with a lot of awed
language. Such energies were directed at finding Angela and being with
her.

  Noel shook his head, anxiety permeating his expression. "Ricky, I
know you... have feelings for Angela, but you're not a superhero. If
they were able to take down Sapphire, what do you think they could have
done to you? What did you think you could do, chasing them like that,
Ricky?"

  "I don't know, dad. Maybe it wasn't the smart thing to do. But it was
important to Angela. And that makes it important to me. I couldn't just
do nothing. Now if it's all right with you, I'm gonna go find her and
make sure she's okay." It was clear from his tone that it didn't matter
whether it was all right with Noel or not. He jumped down; Noel caught
his arm.

  Eric interjected to try to ease the tension between the two Aquinos.
"If Ricky hadn't been here and gone after the Hunter in the first
place, we might not be standing here," he pointed out. "This *building*
might not be standing here. Sometimes the only difference between
stupid and brave is the result."

  Noel's face seemed to soften at that remark. Eric was right; Ricky
was a hero. And more than a little like his father after all.

  Ricky watched his father's stern face soften and crack into a beaming
smile of pride. Ricky felt the grip on his arm relax; the hand rose to
land on his shoulder. "I know. I'm proud of you, son. Now go on." Noel
gave Ricky's shoulder a little push to send him on his way.


  Eric stayed back with Noel as they followed in the younger Aquino's
footsteps. He let out a low whistle as he surveyed the crowd. "If it
hadn't been for Sapphire... Ginger would have killed these people."
  Noel looked at Eric. "I can't believe you worked for a monster like
Ginger."
  "Worse. I slept with her."


  Within a few minutes, Ricky came rushing back toward them.
  "She's over there, by the knocked-over statue. I'm running to get her
some more water," he said, holding up an empty cup. "I'll be right
back." He dashed off.

  They worked their way through the crowd, which seemed to be thickest
around the fallen Man Wielding Hammer statue. Most people sat or laid
on their coats and sweaters, or on banners hastily pulled from set
decorations; a few attended to minor cuts and bruises. At the statue's
feet was a thick knot of people, mostly young women, excitedly
recounting and debating each other's versions of events. It was clear
from the louder, more fantastic fragments of conversation that not
everyone present was entirely sober.

  And one young woman sat silently in the middle of it all, looking
more shellshocked than most. Barefoot, hair a mess, barely covered by a
two-piece outfit not unlike many girls here but somehow looking at once
more fragile and more regal than any of them.

  Angela.

  Noel was about to approach her when a ruckus erupted to his right;
the music that had been playing suddenly stopped.

  "Turn that shit off! Move aside! Coming through! Police! Where is
she?"

  A chevron of uniforms, headed by a man in a dark suit and trenchcoat
whose chest looked ready to burst it was thrust forward so prominently,
strutted across the floor toward them. Bubbling along to either side
were the painfully-bright spotlights and boom microphones of several
television news crews.

  "Well, my evening's ruined," Noel deadpanned.
  "Who's that?" Eric asked.
  "Detective Miguel Rubio, here to polish his badge."

  Rubio stepped up on the shifting, creaking remains of what had been
the raised dance floor beneath the statue.

  "Which one of you is Sapphire? You're under arrest for destruction of
property and reckless endangerment." Everyone present looked back at
the detective, stunned. "Well, don't just sit there. If she won't come
forward on her own, I'm sure someone here is interested in the reward
still offered for her capture."

  The last clusters of conversation fell silent. Shellshocked
partygoers looked around at each other; a few glanced toward the
exhausted heroine but quickly averted their gaze for fear of giving her
away.

  "Need I remind you that anyone who knows who she is and doesn't come
forward is an accessory and guilty of conspiracy?"

  Rubio noticed Noel standing to the side. "Detective Aquino," Rubio
said with a grandiose tone; all the lights and cameras swiveled in
Noel's direction. "You interrogated Sapphire... before she
*mysteriously* escaped police custody. Are you not able to point her
out?"

  Noel shielded his eyes from the bright lights; he was not so used to
the media barrage as Rubio. He passed his eyes over the gathered crowd
as cover for looking at Angela. The depleted heroine closed her eyes
and nodded: it's okay.

  But Noel stood stone-faced. "I'm afraid I can't help you, Detective
Rubio."

  Rubio snapped his fingers at the uniform to his left and then pointed
at his rival. "Arrest him. Harboring a known felon. Obstruction of
justice. Gross incompetence. Violating the terms of his suspension."
Rubio was making things up, but the press devoured every word. This was
a man of action who would find the one responsible for this chaos.

  The officers hesitated a moment, but slowly moved to comply.

  Through the bright lights, Noel saw Angela stir. The fragile girl
slowly stood, shrugging off her attendant. A camera snapped around to
frame her feminine features in its unyielding lens. She took a deep
breath and opened her mouth to speak...

  "I'm Sapphire."

  Heads and cameras alike swiveled as one, away from Angela and toward
the unexpected voice. Another girl, dressed in a sexy Sapphire costume,
stood resolutely, hands on her hips. "I'm Sapphire," she repeated.

  Another young woman, standing a few feet from Angela, shot to her
feet. "No, I'm Sapphire!" A smile gradually broke over her face.

  "I'm Sapphire."
  "I'm Sapphire." "No, I'm Sapphire!"
  "Arrest me! I'm the real Sapphire!"
  "No, arrest me!" "No, me!" "I'm Sapphire!"

  Cameras stopped moving, crews and police alike overcome with
confusion. Within seconds, most of the nearby crowd had stood, raising
their hands, pushing forward. Tall, short, young, old, slender,
rubenesque, women dressed as Sapphire or Black Widow or neither, even
men began yelling, chanting, "I'm Sapphire! I'm Sapphire!"

  Rubio tugged at his collar; his face had turned bright red. Sweat
beaded on his forehead. He looked ready to explode.

  Noel shook off the reluctant officers holding him, pushing through
the crowd toward Rubio. And toward Angela.

  Toward Sapphire, who looked around in confusion and amazement at the
shouting hoardes protecting her. Standing with her. Rooting for her.
Thanking her.

  "Quiet!" Rubio screamed above the shouting. "Everyone *QUIET*!" he
bellowed. The chanting died down, replaced by laughter and smiles and
jeers.

  Noel spoke, raising his voice above the receding chorus. "Detective
Rubio! Are you going to arrest all of them?"

  Rubio was enraged; Noel could see veins bulging at his temples.
"She's here, I know it. I'll detain everyone in this building if I have
to to find her. She's a menace!"

  The crowd parted for Noel to stand before the spitting-mad detective.
Cameras shifted round to frame the two of them facing off. "Rubio,
you're an idiot. Open your eyes. If you cared about anything other than
your own personal glory you'd see that Sapphire is one of the good
guys. She just saved hundreds of lives from a terrorist attack. She
stopped a crazed assassin from killing one of our community's business
leaders. She's repeatedly risked her life to save others. She has a
unique gift, an amazing power we can't even begin to understand, and
rather than use it for her own selfish gain she chose to use it to
fight the forces of evil. Sapphire is a bona fide superheroine, and
this city is damn lucky to have her."

  The crowd erupted in a chorus of cheers and applause. Rubio could
only sputter, his mind obviously churning for some way to recover from
this grievous misjudgement of public sentiment.

  Noel made a show of pushing Rubio aside as he continued through the
crowd toward Angela. He stopped next to her, trying not to wince as he
took off his jacket and draped it over the slender girl's shoulders.
Ricky broke through the crowd to join him. "Nice one, dad," he said,
beaming.

  "Good work, Detective Aquino." Cameras swiveled to capture Police
Captain Ramirez standing off to the side of the stage.

  Noel put up a hand as if to clear path. "Now if you'll excuse me," he
finished, "I've got to make sure that my son and his girlfriend get
home safely."

  The lights of cameras briefly lit their path before seeing the chance
for more of the story from the top-ranking officer on the scene; they
swiveled back to illuminate the Captain. 

  "Captain Ramirez! Can we get a statement about what happened here?"

  Ramirez gestured toward Noel as the detective escorted a disheveled
young woman toward the exit. "I think he just made it."





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