This chapter has so many songs mentioned in it that I'm not giving it a theme. Listen to some of them. ;)

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow.

Learn as if you were to live forever."

-Mahatma Gandhi

I was almost finished digging out my cleaning supplies before I remembered something: the handkerchief. When I got it out of my jewelry box and examined it closely, I realized that the blue was the exact same color as the Superman suit and the hem around the edge was done in red. On one corner was a perfect replica of Kal's house crest in yellow thread.

Most people are aware of superheroes, in the same way that most people are aware of popular film and television actors. Some people …people like me, I suppose… never really pay them much attention. A lot of people have favorites, and keep up-to-date on their rescues and good deeds via grainy cell phone cameras and the internet. A few folks go a little fanatical; for instance, when Batman first showed up in Gotham, there were a substantial number of impostors who hit the street. Many of them learned the hard way that dressing up as Batman does not make you Batman. The Joker ordered a culling of the Batherd and twelve men (none of whom were actually Batman) lost their lives in one night.

Thereafter, it was considered to be bad juju to dress up as your favorite superhero. Manufacturers wouldn't put superheroes' insignia on their products for fear of lawsuits from either the consumer or the hero. So how had Kal's crest wound up on a handkerchief?

As I stood there, rubbing the cloth slowly between my fingers, the memory of the Batman Slaughter brought my train of thought to a more important station. There hadn't always been superheroes in the world. When I was little, before Mom and Dad died, there were no hero stories on the news. Batman was the first to make headlines about eight years ago, and Wonder Woman had started showing up in the news at about the same time as Superman. Since they seemed to protect three of the largest cities in the country, they were the most well-known. But there were others …a lot of others, in fact… who seemed to be vagabonds, showing up in cities at random to commit some selfless act before vanishing into the night. And how many who never made themselves known?

It wasn't the first time I'd wondered it, but I had the thought again at that moment: why had the heroes come? Why now, and why in America? Previously it had been a moment's bored musing, forgotten nearly immediately, but now it seemed a more pressing question. Especially since I kind of knew the answer for one of them: because he had landed here.

But why had Kal chosen Metropolis? Why did he choose to go out and try to help people instead of laying low? Terrified as he seemed to be at the thought of being found out, it was awfully brazen of him to go flying around without a mask on. Why risk it?

There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, I contemplated writing them all down. It struck me as risky for something like that to exist, though, so in the end I decided against it.

I realized, to my dismay, that there was a little bit of snot on the hanky. I washed it in the sink and hung it on the towel bar to dry before I started cleaning.

It only took a couple hours to get everything in my apartment sparkling and smelling like clean laundry again. Though I would normally make the three block journey to Costco on foot, this time I had to take the car. I already knew I'd need to buy more food than I could carry back home with my own two hands and my little two-wheeled cart. The below-ground parking garage was a nightmare as always. I got enough groceries to make dinner and breakfast, and was worried it wouldn't all fit into my nearly-empty fridge.

It did, but just barely.

Meal planning had been difficult. My first impulse had been to make fifty tacos, but then I realized that I'd have to assemble them… and changed my mind. I'd decided on something simple: meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans.

I did the prep work first. Four large white onions and a bundle of chives chopped, a whole bulb of garlic minced, and five pounds of potatoes peeled and diced. It was a few minutes after four in the afternoon by the time I was ready to start cooking, and I worried that it wouldn't be done in time to take a shower afterwards, so I showered and cleaned up first. I braided my hair and carefully covered it with a green paisley bandana to try to keep the cooking odors out of it.

All the frying, folding, boiling, stirring, measuring, simmering and baking took a full two hours, dirtying nearly every utensil I had in my kitchen. The effort of cooking a single meal for Kal really drove home the point that being the love interest of a superhero would present unique challenges. Also, I desperately needed to up my game on the kitchen equipment front. I'd had time to let down and brush out my hair, which had dried nicely into big waves, and to change into an ankle-length green skirt and a dove grey fitted tee. I'd also closed all the windows and blinds, since the night was still cool this early in spring.

At seven o'clock on the dot, my buzzer rang. I trotted over to the front door and hit the button below the speaker next to it.

"Vat is ze passvord?" I demanded angrily, instead of saying hello or any such normal thing.

I heard him laugh, and clear his throat. "Yode-ode-ley-he-ode-lay-hee-hoo!"

Kal had actually yodeled it. My shoulders shook with silent laughter, my head hanging forward, as I pushed the second button to release the main lock downstairs.

I unlocked the deadbolt and chain on the front door, too, and went back into the kitchen to finish setting everything out on the table. When Kal knocked, I was setting a casserole dish down.

"Come in," I said, a little quietly. A normal human wouldn't have been able to hear me, but the knob turned and Kal entered… wearing a sucker punch smile. He closed and locked the door behind himself, then opened his arms to me.

I went into them immediately, wrapping my arms around his ribs and waist, burying my face in his chest. Kal's arms went around my shoulders, one hand smoothing my hair. He hugged me tight for a moment, then drew back a little. I lifted my head, tilted my face up towards him, and his lips met mine. It was a soft kiss of greeting, with fire burning beneath.

Then we broke apart and I stepped back. He was wearing jeans, red Converse hi-tops and a Led Zeppelin Mothership tee. I smiled a little and shook my head at it.

"Well, dinner's ready," I said, gesturing to the spread on the table, "but I'll be happy to give you a tour of the place first if you want."

Kal looked at the table, and it was as if he suddenly realized the amount of food that was actually there. There were five meatloaves, three already cut into slices, a gravy boat full of the red ketchup sauce, a large casserole dish of twice-baked loaded mashed potatoes, and a huge bowl of green beans with bacon and onion.

"No, if I want to eat all this before it gets cold, I'd better start now," he said, and turned to give me a wicked smile. "You can show me your bedroom later."

He winked, and then started to take off his messenger bag. I was a little dumbfounded… Kal was flirting with me. Last night had been more of a holding on to each other for dear life sort of event, and there hadn't been much… banter between us.

"Roger that," I said, moving to my own chair as he hung his bag from the back of one that didn't have a place set in front of it.

Kal did have a plate in front of him when he sat down. He looked at it, and then at all the food, and then at me.

"Would you be offended if I ate out of the dishes instead of putting it all on the plate first?"

"No, I wouldn't," I replied immediately. "I didn't even think about it. I just set you a plate out of habit I guess." I picked up my own plate and started towards the kitchen.

"What would you like to drink?" I asked. "I've got wine, water, milk, Coke, and Sam Adams Cherry Wheat."

"Two of the Cherry Wheat and a glass of water, please," he said.

I came back to the table and set his drinks between the dishes, both beers open. I took my seat, and Kal used a fork to point at the scoop of potatoes that had appeared on my plate.

"Where'd you get those?"

"I couldn't fit all the potatoes into the one dish, so I made another rinky-dink one too." I smiled and pointed to the casserole dish with my fork. "That's all you."

I did take a thick slice of the meatloaf and sauce, and a big scoop of green beans.

To my surprise, he didn't go to town on it right away. He put sauce on all the cut-up meatloaf, but only cut off a small square and chewed it slowly. Then he had one bite of potatoes, then one of green beans. He followed that with a sip of beer… and then sighed.

"Okay, you're an amazing cook. Is there bourbon in the red sauce?" Kal asked, smiling at me.

"Yep," I said with a nod, grinning.

He took another few bites at a very normal human rate. Then Kal stopped, and set his fork and knife down. He gave me a look across the table… such a look! …part pain, part sorrow, part joy, part humility.

"You worked pretty hard on this, didn't you, Evie?" Kal asked.

I set my fork down. "Harder than I should have needed to, yes. My kitchen is really only set up to cook for one or two, but a couple of industrial-grade appliances should remedy that situation."

I was deliberately upbeat about it, and smiled at him. I didn't like the look in his eyes or the tone in his voice.

"I thought so. And it's so good…" Kal sighed. "I feel bad just demolishing it. And it'll take literally all night for me to eat all this normally."

"Did you eat before you came over?" I asked gently. "Did you think I'd make a normal-sized dinner?"

"No," Kal said, shaking his head. "I actually haven't eaten since breakfast. But… I feel bad that you worked so hard on such an amazing dinner just to have me destroy it."

I sighed. Opened my mouth to reply, and shut it. I looked down at the table and ran my hand along the lovingly polished surface. It took a moment for the feelings to solidify into words.

"I haven't told you about this table yet," I began, "so I'll do it now. I bought it at a yard sale, and I'd never seen carvings like this one has. They're daises and hops, if you hadn't noticed."

Kal looked critically at the woodwork on the chair next to his. "Huh, you're right. I've never seen that on furniture before."

"So, I had an antiques dealer come by to have a look. He told me this table was probably one of a kind, likely made by hand in the late eighteen hundreds, probably by German immigrants."

"Neat," he replied, giving me a look that asked what the point of this story was.

"It's never matched any of my other furniture, but I keep it for two reasons. The first reason I keep it is because daises are my favorite flower, and I'm sure I'll never find another table with daisies on it."

"The second reason I keep it, the more important one… it's more than a hundred years old and was made by human hands. Imagine how many people have broken bread sitting in these two chairs! This table has probably been used for thousands of meals, for homework, for sewing..."

Kal was smiling, and nodding. He got it.

"And now," I said, laying a hand flat on the tabletop, and looking right into Kal's eyes, "this century-old table can say that it has held a meal for a man not born on this Earth. On top of all those very ordinary human meals it has been a critical part of… it has fed a man from the stars."

His smile got broader, and I continued.

"Tell me something, Kal."

"Anything," he replied.

"Most of the times you've eaten with someone else in your adult life, you've walked away from the table hungry, haven't you?"

His face fell. "Yes. I can't remember the last time I ate with someone else and got full… probably not since I was a kid."

I stood up, pushing my chair back with my legs, and spread my fingertips on the bare wood to either side of my white and yellow checkered placemat.

"So then, Kal of the House El, my Star Born, you shall not walk away hungry from the Table of A Thousand Suppers."

As before when I'd spoken in the lake house, my words had a strange ring I hadn't intended to put there. I'd meant for it to sound comically pompous… yet it changed into something of ceremony and ritual and magic as it left my lips. I don't think Kal had heard it so clearly the last time; he have me a look of surprise and… something else I couldn't identify. Something intense.

"I want you to eat until you're full," I continued, trying to keep my voice nice and normal. "If it takes you all night because you want to savor the food, I'm happy to keep you company. If you want to eat at Kryptonian speed, I'll do my best not to stare… but it's completely fascinating to watch, so I hope you'll forgive me."

I sat back down, pulling in my chair.

Kal looked at the food for a long moment, one hand flat on the wood. With the other he reached up and took off his glasses, set them aside.

Then he gave a choked sob, tears sparkling in his eyes, and buried his face in both hands.

Immediately I was up out of my chair and hurrying around the table. That was most definitely not the reaction I'd been looking for, or even remotely expecting.

"Kal, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…!"

I gathered him to my stomach, and his arms went around my waist. For a long minute I just stroked his raven hair and felt the warmth of his tears soaking into my shirt. Then he drew back, wiping his eyes and nose with a napkin.

"I'm sorry Evie," he said. "That's so unmanly… but… nobody's ever…"

He was fighting tears again.

"It's not unmanly," I reassured him. "I like seeing the side of you that's vulnerable. It means I don't have to feel bad for showing you mine."

I rubbed his shoulders and smiled down at him.

He took a deep breath, and looked up at me. "It's just… my Dad is the only other person who ever talked about what I am as if it was a positive thing. And nobody's ever told me to eat until I was full and presented me with a meal that could do it."

Kal took my hand and squeezed it. "It means a lot to me."

"It means a lot to me, too," I said, squeezing back. "So I don't want you to ever feel like I worked too hard on a meal for you to destroy it. I worked hard with that goal in mind."

Then I looked at all the food. "But it's gone cold now, and I can't let you eat it that way, so let me throw all this in the oven real quick."

I moved to pick up the casserole dish, but Kal put a hand on my wrist.

"Sit down, Evie. I got this."

Kal was a surgeon with the heat vision, and warmed all the food to a perfect temperature without making the plates too hot to touch. I was still amazed by that feat when he began to eat… at Kryptonian speed. It really was an astonishing thing to watch. Kal's hands and arms became blurs, and his trunk would skip in place as he turned for one thing or another. His mouth and the lower half of his face were a blur like his arms; moving too fast for me to track with my puny mortal sight. His eyes seemed to skip and dance like his torso, and were darting all over so rapidly to keep pace with his hands that I wondered how he wasn't seasick.

All three of the cut-up meatloaves, plus half of another one, all the green beans, most of the potatoes, both beers and nearly all the water was what it took to finally sate him. I had finished my meal already, sipping my beer in amused silence as Kal finished up. What a reward it was for me to see the smile on his face as he laid a hand on his still-flat belly and said he was full!

I had cleaned up as I'd been cooking, so there wasn't a lot left to do. Although I told Kal he was more than welcome to relax on the couch and enjoy his fullness, he insisted on helping me. I wrapped up the leftovers while he rinsed off the last few dishes that went in the dishwasher. He handed them to me and I played dishwasher Tetris for a few moments. When I straightened up… he was already done washing the pots and pans.

I'd beamed at him and said, "I really like how all your powers have a super-handy practical application."

"Thanks," he replied. "I'm always glad to be of service."

"I wonder what …other… practical applications they might have." I mused aloud.

Kal blushed a little, and gave me the most adorably shy smile I think I've ever seen on a man.

"Geeze, Evie. I've never even thought about that…"

I gave a small shrug with my left shoulder.

"You never had a reason to before. But maybe you should start thinking about it." I returned the wink and the sly smile Kal had given me earlier. Before he could form a coherent response, I gestured to the living room. "Make yourself comfortable, feel free to fiddle with the stereo. I need to visit the powder room."

I went to the guest bathroom at the end of the hall and shut the door without looking back. Immediately I was glad I'd done so; I'd forgotten that the hanky was still hanging over the towel bar. I folded it into a little square in my palm after I'd finished relieving myself, and went back out into the living room.

Kal was sitting on one end of the couch, his sock feet propped up on the glass table. I went into the fridge and got another pair of beers, opened them both. I set one on the end table next to him on a coaster, then moved behind the couch to set mine on the opposite end table, and seated myself in the other corner.

"What, you don't want to sit by me now?" Kal asked, and I didn't think the hurt was entirely feigned.

"Of course I do," I replied lightly. "But I also want to talk with you, and if I come over there and curl up next to you, we're probably not going to talk for very long, are we?"

He smiled a little. "No, probably not."

"So," I said, unfurling the hanky with one quick snap of my wrist and offering it to him, "let's start with this."

His smile got bigger. "The way you said it was in your jewelry box, I wondered if you hadn't actually thrown it away. I'm glad to see that wasn't the case."

"Honestly, I'm lucky I didn't lose it," I replied. "I was halfway home before I realized I still had it balled up in my hand."

Then the smile faded a little. That was the day our paths had crossed for the first time, the day he'd stolen me right out from under Death's nose.

He nodded quietly, and spoke still looking down at the little square of fabric.

"The first year I was in Metropolis as Superman, there was a bad fire in one of the government-owned buildings on the South Side."

I nodded.

"I saved a lot of people," he continued, "and I didn't think I saw any more. But when I came down to let the firefighters do their work, one elderly Hispanic lady was screaming that her granddaughter was still inside. It took me a long time to find her. She was huddled up under some heavy blankets in her bedroom closet, and it was hard to see her through the walls even with my second sight. I got to her just in time, she was starting to pass out from the smoke inhalation. When her grandmother came pushing through the crowd, the girl was crying, and I was using my cape to wipe her face off."

"The little girl's name is Elena, and she came through her ordeal just fine. Her grandmother, Rosa, makes these hankies for me. I pick them up from her apartment on the last Sunday of every month. She says it's her way of thanking both me and God for Elena's life. Though I've never really understood how it's thanking God."

"By helping you to help others, maybe," I pondered aloud.

"Maybe," he agreed.

"So… what about you? Do you believe in God?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I see or experience something so amazing that I think that there must be a God, and sometimes I think it simply isn't possible that a God who claims to love us could exist with the world the way it is."

"I feel you on that one," I agreed. Then: "What about Krypton? Did they have a religion?"

"Not really a religion, no. From what Jor-El says, they prayed to the souls of their ancestors if they needed guidance or strength."

I nodded. "That actually makes sense."

Kal looked at me sideways. "Really? You think so? It always seemed kind of… I dunno, pointless, to me."

"No, it makes good sense if you think about it. Nobody has definitive proof of God's existence, but millions the world over pray to Him anyway. You know for a fact that your ancestors existed… and if their souls still exist, why couldn't those souls be called upon for help in times of need?"

He took a sip of his beer while he mulled it over, looked at the bottle as he said, "Huh, I guess you're right."

"Furthermore, Kal," I said, leaning forward a little, "you're the last Kryptonian. Which means that if you prayed to the souls of your ancestors… you'd have the potential to get a response from every Kryptonian soul that ever existed."

He shivered a little. "That's… deep. And kind of poetic."

Then he smiled, and looked at me. "Like you."

I bowed my head in acknowledgement of the compliment, but replied modestly; "I have my moments."

"Speaking of you," Kal said, "didn't you mention that you don't believe in God?"

I smiled a little. "No, I said that I believe in a sort of God."

"Okay," Kal nodded, "what religion would you say you are?"

I snorted derisively. "Religion is a tool used to control and divide people. I don't have a religion, I'm not religious. What I am is spiritual."

Kal looked confused, so I just launched into an explanation.

"I believe that there are two manifestations, aspects if you will, of God. The first manifestation of God is the one that exists outside of us. This God is not sentient, it does not care for us nor does it have any great design. This aspect of God is visible in the forces that created our universe and keep it alive; the laws of physics. That God doesn't love us, because that God is the creation engine. That God is the riverbed in which all the water of life flows."

"The second manifestation of God is a spark of the divine that every living thing carries inside it. The person you are, your own soul, serves as the glass through which this divine light shines. Have you ever heard it said that God has no hands of His own, so He must use our hands to do his works?"

Kal nodded. "Yeah, sounds familiar."

"Just so, and it's true. But it goes deeper than that. God has no care of his own. The only way God can care is to do it through us. We are the color in the stained glass window, the carefully wrought art that gives meaning to the light behind."

"Well," Kal said, "that's certainly a unique perspective. At first it seems kind of… y'know, New-Age… or whatever…"

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, as if trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.

"…But, I guess that would explain how there can be so much good and bad in the world, and still have a God that does exist. Because humans can be so incredibly good, and so incredibly bad."

I nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. When you shine the divine light through a soul that hates, and wants to destroy… God is forced to hate, and desire destruction."

He just kind of looked at me. "You are really …really… deep."

I laughed a little. "I hope that's a compliment, so I'll say thanks."

"It is a compliment, so you're welcome," he said. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your concept of the divine is so unique. You're really an outside-the-box kind of girl, aren't you?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," I said. "If you want to get way out of the box, let's talk about the other topic that's not considered polite conversation."

Kal thought about it for a second. "Oh, religion and politics!"

I gave him a small golf clap, and said with a broad smile, "Give the man a prize."

He did a small bow, then said, "Well, it's going to be a short conversation. I don't give a shit about politics. Or sports, for that matter."

I narrowed my eyes, and I'm sure the look I have him was something close to hateful.

"You. Don't give a shit. About politics."

"Correctamundo," he said cheerfully, taking a sip of his beer.

"May I ask why not?" I had to restrain my outrage until I discerned whether or not he had a good reason for not giving a shit.

"I decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to interfere. I'm not human, I don't really belong in this world, so it's not my place to influence the outcome. And since I don't want to get involved, there's no point doing research and choosing a favorite."

Don't get aggressive about this, Eve. He's your fated one, and a scarred man, and you have to be gentle, I reminded myself sternly.

"You have a social security number and a driver's license, don't you?" I asked.

He nodded, a little suspicious. "Yes."

"And you pay taxes, don't you?"

Again, the nod.

"Well, Kal, that makes you as much an American Citizen as any other American Citizen. And you have just as much right and obligation to participate in your country's governance as anyone else."

"But Evie, I'm an alien," he said gently. "It doesn't feel right for me to vote."

"You do realize how many illegal aliens there are in our country, don't you?"

Kal burst out laughing, and laughed hard. He put a hand on his knee and leaned forward and everything.

"Different kind of alien," he said, still chuckling.

"Ah, but the point remains valid," I said, raising my beer to him before taking a quick swig. "Regardless of the fact that you have a planet of origin rather than a country of origin, you're a legal immigrant. You were adopted by an American family, you've lived in the United States since you were a year old, and you've paid taxes to the American government your whole adult life."

He was nodding, smiling.

"You're one of us, Kal." And then, for fun, I chanted; "Oneofus! Oneofus!"

He laughed a little and looked at me sideways. "I guess you're right. Just voting and being aware of what's going on isn't really… interfering."

I grinned. "Good. I couldn't agree more."

"So, I guess I should ask what your political views are," Kal said gamely.

"Well… my political views might be a little intense for you, especially since you don't know much about the system. I'm pretty revolutionary."

Kal shook his head at me. "You're revolutionary about everything. That's how you think."

"Thank you," I said, "But I mean that in a literal sense. I think we need a complete restructuring of our country's government, financial, military, and healthcare systems."

He blinked a little. I don't think Kal quite knew how to take that. "Really? Why?"

"In all honesty, it's a long conversation you'd probably find a little boring. I have a better idea," I said, suddenly remembering something.

"Hold please," I said, putting up a finger and rising from the couch.

I dashed back into my bedroom, and knelt in front of my dresser so that I could pull out the lowermost right hand drawer. Inside I found a stack of dollar bills with writing all over them… both Jewel's handwriting and mine. I chose one that was mine, shut the drawer, and went back out into the living room.

"Here," I said, handing it to him as I settled back down. "Have a dollar's worth of truth."

"What's this?" Kal asked.

"It's what I said; a Dollar Bill of Truth. Whenever you have a minute, and get bored, start Googling the terms written on the dollar. Start with 'petrodollar' and go to the right."

"Petrodollar," he said aloud, finding it. "Iraq Oil In Euros, False Flag Attack, Syrian Pipeline, Icelandic Revolution, PRISM Program, Domestic Drones, Militarization Of Police, FDA Revolving Door, GMO's, Monsanto, Wealth Inequality…"

"What is this, Evie?" Bless his heart, he seemed so confused.

"This is a way for people to spread information. Just do as the dollar says; research the terms. Read a few different articles about each thing, from different sources. When you've got some information, we can talk politics again, and I'll give you my detailed thoughts on everything."

"You made this, didn't you?" Kal asked.

"Yep. Jewel and I sat here one night and made a hundred of them. We would just put a few in our wallets, and hand them out at random in payment for purchases."

"Why?"

I smiled a little coyly. "Because the truth is out there, and people deserve to know. Including you."

He shook his head a little, shrugged, and shifted so that he could pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He tucked the bill inside and put it away.

"So," I said, "now that the heavy things are done with… let's take a bit of a brain breather, huh?"

I got a sucker punch smile. "Sure."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Green," he replied, "like, forest green or Kelly green. Yours?"

"Blue, any shade," I fired back immediately.

"What's your favorite food?" he asked.

"Bacon. Or a BLT I guess because it's a bacon sandwich."

Kal laughed. "That's an excellent choice that I've never heard a woman make. I guess mine would be a good steak."

"Steak's not a bad choice either. It's not bacon, but at least it's still in the meat family. What's your favorite song?"

"Ah, I don't think I can really pick one…" Kal replied, stroking his chin and looking up at the ceiling again as he thought about it. "…there are so many that I really love…"

"But there's gotta be one that you love more than all the others," I said, pressing him.

"I guess… if I had to choose one, I'd say Wherever I May Roam by Metallica. With End of Heartache by Killswitch Engage a close second."

I put my hand over my own chest. "I feel ya again on the End of Heartache. Excellent pick," I said, nodding a little. "But Wherever I May Roam… that's kind of poetic… and kind of sad."

He gave me a small smile. "That's why I like it. What are yours?"

"Imagine for one, the John Lennon version is good but I like the Perfect Circle cover better."

"I didn't know they did a cover," Kal said. "What's the second one?"

"Well… lately, I've been listening to Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey a lot."

"Never heard that one," he replied. "Can we listen to it?"

"Yeah," I said, getting up to retrieve my phone from its charger on the pass-through. "But, I'll warn you, it's pretty dark."

I dug out an adapter cable and plugged my phone into the auxiliary jack on my stereo, switched over the input and pressed play. He listened, and got kind of a dark look on his face.

"Does this make you think about… Scott?"

"No," I said, smiling a little, very briefly. "More about Jewel. Platonic kind of love. The dark paradise is us sunbathing when we were fifteen."

He nodded, and seemed to relax a little, but when the song was over he said, "I still don't like it."

"I warned you it was dark."

"So you did," he said as I got up from the couch. But the song had already changed over… to one I'd downloaded earlier in the day, while I was cleaning. It was Madonna's Inside Out. The one that had been playing when Kal had started to take my clothes off the previous night.

All the sadness of Lana Del Rey's smoky voice evaporated as Kal found his wicked little grin again. He'd recognized it too. Wordlessly, he got up off the couch and came over to stand in front of me. He put one hand on the small of my back and pulled me against him. I wrapped one arm around his neck and followed his lead as he started to move back and forth to the beat of the music.

Then Kal put his other hand on my ribcage, and slid it around to my back as he drew me closer. I reached up to put my other arm around his neck and somehow wound up with my fingers buried in his raven hair.

The kiss he gave me then had nothing of gentleness in it, only open-mouthed fire that instantly ignited me. I made a low sound of need in my throat. Kal picked me up and pushed me against the living room wall, holding me there with the weight of his body while his hands roved all over me and his tongue lashed my mouth. Though my skirt kind of got in the way, I wound my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Kal carried me down the hallway and though I hadn't given him a proper tour yet, he correctly guessed which room was my bedroom.

The previous night's union had been a transient, moonlit, spiritual thing, echoed with deep emotion… a wish on a silvery shooting star. That second night crashed down upon us like a blazing comet; a collision of fire and power that shook the ground and painted glowing smoke across the sky.

And we found out that his superpowers did have some amazing practical applications… although minor abrasions were involved in the learning process