I OWN NOTHING (seriously, nothing, I hotwired a car and am at an internet cafe, cops are coming for me as I type, don't sue me, you wont get anything), Everything belongs to NBC and all them ***Spoilers***for Kozmo, Tarot, and my imagination.

Takes place after Kozmo.

No One Special, Chapter 1: Invisible

I have a tell. That's all there is to it. Everyone, no matter how good a liar they are, has a tell. I just thought mine was invisible, like me.

I carry myself with attitude a blind monk could see that. Knowing that I'm not Julia, well, maybe Gregor saw me introduce myself elsewhere. So he saw my tell. So what? And the way I dress? I dress expensively, and no girl my age has earned their money. They either marry in or get it from family. (And that screams discontent.) So, that's nothing magical or psychic. Besides what one psychopath says while looking at my hand means nothing compared to what I've spent years building myself up to. And I do mean years, if I hadn't invested my life, my soul, into being Orwell there's no way in hell I'd have been able to get away from Him, I mean, to get where I am. There's no way I'd be where I am.

No, Gregor the Great was not seeing into my subconscouis. He was guessing. Every girl between the age of 7 and 27 has daddy issues. Either he didn't love her or he loved her too much. He never hugged her or he molested her. He never paid attention to her or he kept her under constant surveillance. He's too busy with work or he's home all the time with nothing to do but be there for her. There's no middle ground. Eventually, little girls grow up and get over all the issues they had as childish adolescents and make amends with their fathers, forgive the men for the things they did in the past.

My dad's different, of course, but that doesn't mean I can't still have 'daddy issues' and retributianary issues with him. Technically, just because I have issues with Fleming/Chess, doesn't mean I really have father issues. It just means I have issues with a man who is my father. He's still hurting people. And until he stops, until I can stop him, I will continue to have issues with him. It's not like he's robbing banks and holding up liquor stores. He's a murderer, killing government officials and taking over entire cities. He's a criminal mastermind. And he's kind of an asshole.

To top it off, he's looking for me. I ran away from home the second I turned eighteen. And I've been hiding myself ever since. Sure, every now and then I throw the bastard a bone: A passport slip here, a fingerprint or DNA sample there, a photo or blurry image on a security camera. It's the game of hide-and-seek he never had time to play when I was growing up. When I was ten I realized he was not just an international businessman. I was thirteen when I started using my computer and tech skills to counteract every move I could. By the time I met Vince, well, I don't need him, but it never hurts to have a little muscle to do some footwork. And the fact that The Cape can get up close and personal with Chess. I mean, for a man who supposedly spent almost two decades raising me, when I swept in a nabbed Secretary Portman's chicken dinner the guy didn't even blink an eye at me. Not that I wanted him to recognize me. He can't. Maybe he really can't he hasn't seen me in so long, maybe I've changed. He has.

Beside the point. Gregor doesn't know whose daughter I am, he can't tell Fleming, or Vince, or anyone because he doesn't know who I am. He knew I wasn't Julia. Big deal. He could tell I was lying. He saw my tell, who cares? I know I have one. I'm sure I do, everyone does. But he doesn't know I'm Spawn of Chess. So he cant tell. So I can be still be who I need to be.

I have to. If I can't who will be watching? No, Orwell needs to be watching. Invisible. I have to stay invisible. As it is I've taken unnecessary risks. Okay, my life is an unnecessary risk. Until I can be sure the time is right, until I can take down the man ruining. The man who (okay, I'm still bitter) could make it to one frickin ballet recital. The man I'm ashamed to call my father. Until he can be behind bars, I am invisible. No one special, just me. Just invisible.

Reviews? I'd love some, I can read them from prison...crap COPPERS! I have the right to remain silent...