Chapter One Hundred and Sixty Five
...
Sport tried not to be nervous. He liked Ammie and wanted their date to go right, even though he still didn't know where they were going. She had told him to dress casual with closed-in shoes, which didn't really help him narrow things down, and he had spent far too long deliberating over his outfit. Jeans were fine but casual shirts weren't exactly filling his wardrobe. He'd decided on a short-sleeved button down and then spent another ten minutes trying to decide whether to tuck the shirt in or not.
His alarm had gone off while he was still tucked in, so he'd left it that way, turned the alarm off, and grabbed the present he'd bought for Ammie before heading upstairs to meet her.
As he walked along the corridor, Sport had the distinct feeling of being watched. He couldn't shake the feeling, but also couldn't see anyone, either. It made him more nervous than he'd like, and as he pressed the button for the elevator, Sport tried to look around discreetly to see who might be there.
"You look like you're going to beat the shit out of someone. What's up, Sport?" Buddy asked, frowning as he walked down the hallway with Kid beside him.
Sport shook his head. "Just felt like someone was watching. Freaked me out."
Buddy snorted and threw a few gummy bears into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously since he knew the sound pissed Kid off. "'Course you're being watched. Champ's on Security and he's got the cameras following your every move, 'specially with you dressed up all fancy like that."
Sport looked at the cameras and found no less than three pointing straight at him. Rolling his eyes, he flipped the cameras off, then turned his attention back to Kid and Buddy. Kid had taken the bag of gummy bears off Buddy, stolen a few for himself, and pocketed the packet.
"Who're you going on a date with?" Kid asked curiously.
"Ammie. From the bakery downstairs," Sport said.
"Ooh, she's cute. Need me to cover your shift tonight?" Buddy asked with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.
"What? No. Why?"
"So you can get laid. Duh."
Sport clenched his jaw and rolled his shoulders, trying to tell himself that Buddy didn't mean to be an asshole. He just missed social cues sometimes. "No, Buddy. It's not like that. I really like her."
Buddy seemed confused by the prospect. "But you never like anyone. Why now?"
Sport glared over at the camera, figuring Champ was delaying the elevator so he could listen to their conversation. He was an asshole, one hundred percent. "She's funny and sweet, and names her animal cupcakes, and I just... like her, okay?"
"Like our Alice, Bud," Kid murmured, voice not quiet enough, and peaking Sport's interest.
"Your Alice?" he asked, noticing one of the cameras moving its attention to Kid and Buddy.
"Oh. Right. Well... the offer still stands: you need a night off, let us know. Kid'll do your shift," Buddy said, grinning.
"You can't offer to take my shift on Kid's behalf, Buddy."
"Yeah, I can. He likes the extra responsibility," Buddy said, shrugging and eating more gummy bears from the stolen bag, grinning widely when Kid felt his empty pocket and scowled.
The elevator finally arrived and Sport stepped in, leaving his two friends to argue over the gummy bears.
In the rafters overhead, Corvin ruffled his feathers, and flew up to their apartment to officially meet Sport. As he shifted back, he grinned, knowing his mother would love the gift Sport had bought for her.
...
"Good afternoon, sir - "
"Skip the pleasantries, G. Why haven't you found them yet?"
Agent G swallowed hard. "Well, we still don't know who we're looking for, sir."
"Where's your list? Have you narrowed it down?" Mr. A asked, glancing at the list Agent H offered to him.
"There are more than a hundred different supers with the abilities that were demonstrated at the orphanage, sir. We were hoping you could assist, sir," Agent H said.
Agent G glared at him. Agent H had wanted to ask Mr. A to look at the list, not him.
Mr. A looked up from the list in time to see G glaring, and contemplated whether it was worth approving E's request to recalibrate G again. He'd already been recalibrated twice since his initial entry into the Super Bureau. Mr. A knew from experience that multiple recalibrations never ended well. Three was pushing the limits of the mind already; a fourth would result in an emotional dam bursting, and no one could predict what the Agents would do when it burst.
"Take the children off the list, at the very least. None of them have the power or precision to destroy the Wardens, let alone the building."
"Yes, sir. We'll have a narrowed list to you in an hour," Agent H said with a firm nod, standing.
Agent G took the list back from Mr. A, and headed to the door after H, looking at the list.
"How old are children? Do you think he meant teenagers, too?" Agent H asked, waiting until they were far from Mr. A's office to ask the important questions.
Agent G clenched his jaw. "Why didn't you ask Mr. A?"
"I thought you'd know."
"Teenagers are still children. We're narrowing it to adults: over 21 years old," Agent G decided firmly.
Agent H nodded and headed to the room they'd dedicated to finding the supers who had destroyed Project Family.
...
Ammie startled when the oven timer went off right as the front door opened. Looking to the door, she was relieved to see it was Corvin returning from his flight, and focused on getting the cookies out of the oven.
"You got flour on your dress, didn't you?" Corvin asked, seeing his mother in a different dress as she placed a tray of cookies on the bench.
"Yes. It'll wash off. This dress is better for bowling, anyway."
Corvin thought it was shorter than the previous dress, but didn't point it out. "What cookies did you make for me? Also, you had half an hour before your date, and you decided to bake?"
"You stretch your wings, I bake choc-chip cookies. I see no difference," Ammie said. "On the pan for five minutes, then can you put them on a cooling rack for me? Don't eat all of them. Oh, and I didn't get a chance to tell you before: I made a few things for Phineas and Finnley, if you want to invite them over. After you've done your homework," she added.
"I finished it on the bus. What did you make for them?" he asked, his cheeks pink.
"Spinach and broccoli muffins for Finnley, and spaghetti and mince for Phineas. Do you think he'll like that? I looked up the diet for a fennec fox, and they'll eat nearly anything, but I didn't have any bugs leftover. I'm going to ask Enzo when we have our Team Food meeting next week."
"What is Team Food and why can I hear you capitalising the words?" Corvin asked.
"Well, we're both owners of the building's food establishments. We're still trying to get Frank included, but he said he only sells packaged food in the corner store and doesn't want to give people the wrong impression. I'm going to talk to Carlotta and see if she can convince her husband to join. It's just us, anyway."
"Why are you meeting? Isn't Enzo your competition?"
"No. We're going to complement each other's food. So I'm doing animal cupcakes and Enzo is doing a tasting plate with those same animals. Well... except the penguin. I'm still trying to convince him he doesn't need an exotic menu. Angelina agrees with me, but Enzo's already five steps ahead and trying to source meat from who knows where. I think Honey's talking to him about it."
"Really? That sounds fucked up, Ma. You're making cute cupcakes of, what, cows and lambs and pigs and stuff, and then he's serving up beef and lamb and pork?"
Ammie frowned. "We're not serving it up at the same time."
There was a knock at the door and they both looked over. Ammie remembered she had a date and Sport was behind the door, and looked around her messy kitchen with a wince. She hadn't cleaned the mixing bowls or the cookie tray and the kitchen had been clean twenty-five minutes ago, damn it!
"Want me to answer the door?" Corvin offered, realising his mother was internally freaking out. She never stood still unless she was freaking out.
Ammie shook her head. "No. I'll do it. Just... best behaviour. Please?"
"I'll try," Corvin said, holding up his hand in a Vulcan salute.
Smiling, Ammie squeezed his forearm gently and passed by to open the front door. Sport stood there in a pair of jeans and a black button-up shirt, but he was holding a box and had a shy smile on his face.
"Hi, Ammie. I brought you flours."
Ammie looked into the open box filled with several types of flours: self-raising, plain, wholemeal, rice, and oat, and laughed. "I love them. Thank you, Sport."
"You're welcome. You look amazing."
"Oh, I know," Ammie said with a grin, glad she'd gone with the shorter dress after all.
Corvin snickered from the kitchen, taking one of the warm cookies and eating it before his mother noticed. "Back by nine, Ma. I'll be waiting up," he called with a grin.
Sport and Ammie both blushed. Ammie took the box from Sport, almost staggering with the weight. "I'll put these in the kitchen. Come on through; I'll introduce you to Corvin," she said over her shoulder, carrying the box to the kitchen and setting them on the bench. "That's your best behaviour, Core? Really?"
"I didn't say anything for three full minutes. I counted. It's a personal best," Core teased, kissing her cheek.
"I'm very impressed," Ammie deadpanned. "Come on and meet Sport. Be nice."
Corvin followed his mother out of the kitchen to see Sport still waiting in the entry, looking nervous.
"Hi, Corvin, I'm Sport. I think you yelled at me when I tried to introduce myself at the welcome party last weekend," Sport admitted, grinning.
"Oh, yeah. Hi," Corvin said briefly, letting the silence stretch out.
Sport didn't seem to mind the silence, but Ammie looked between them in confusion when no one said a word and the ticking clock seemed to get louder with every passing second.
"Would someone say something?" Ammie asked in exasperation.
Deciding to cut the guy some slack, Core nudged his mother towards Sport gently. "Go have fun, I've gotta find my friends if they're going to come over for dinner. I'll do twenty questions for your next date," he added with a grin.
Ammie frowned at him over her shoulder. "What? You always do twenty questions on the first date."
"Well, you're already running late; you don't want them to run out of size... fifteen shoes, do you?" Corvin asked, glancing down at Sport's feet and smirking at the implication, even as his mother blushed and Sport tried not to look too smug. "I'm being nice, remember?"
"Yeah, and it's weird. But you're right. Come on, Sport," Ammie said, ushering him out of the apartment before her son could change his mind.
Corvin waved when Ammie looked back at the elevator, then waited until they were both in the elevator and heading downstairs before he left the apartment to go knock on Finn and Phineas' apartment door and invite them to dinner.
...
"Frieda? Dear, you need to breathe," Babs said, squeezing her hand gently and looking at her in concern.
"I... I am," Frieda said, letting out the breath she'd been holding.
"We've been here for five minutes and haven't come across a soul. I think they're hiding from you. Or for you," Babs amended, seeing a door closing up ahead.
Frieda bit her tongue, not wanting to purse her lips and ruin her lipstick. "I didn't want them to hide from me."
Babel patted her hand. It was a lie but not one that Frieda would recognise. "I know you didn't want to, dear, but I think they've done this to help you, not because they're scared of you."
Frieda didn't look appeased, but didn't have anything to say in return. How could she? First she was too terrified to face the poor children and then she contradicted herself by being upset that they weren't there?
"All right, there's Layla and Warren's room. Would you like me to come in with you?" Babs asked.
"Oh, yes. Of course, dear. You don't want to see them?"
"I do, but I'm happy to give you space if you need it. I'll give you anything you need, if I can," Babs promised, the words serious but her expression becoming sultry as Frieda's cheeks reddened.
"Mmm, I know you will. Later," Frieda said, rising on her toes to kiss her gently, then stepped back to go into Layla and Warren's room.
Glad that she'd distracted Frieda from the child who'd been leaving Layla and Warren's room, Babs looked around to see where they'd gone. A small face peeked out from the corridor, then grinned and waved. She smiled and waved back, glancing over to ensure Frieda was all right in Layla and Warren's room when the child stepped out.
"It's all right; Frieda will be preoccupied long enough for us to talk," 081 said confidently.
Babel was surprised by the young child's confidence, but didn't doubt it. "What would you like to talk about?"
"Ambassador Delattre."
Well, she certainly hadn't expected that.
It took a few minutes for Frieda to realise that Babs hadn't followed her into the room. The relief she felt on seeing Layla and Warren whole and alive, never mind their healing injuries, had made her legs weak and she'd sunk into the seat beside Layla's bed. Now that she was more aware of her surroundings, she realised Babel wasn't there, and she looked around with a frown.
"Sorry, dear. Bathroom called," Babs said, smoothing her skirt down. She looked between Layla and Warren, smiling. "How are you doing, dears?"
"Good. I'm glad you're both here. It's good to see you," Layla said, reaching to squeeze Frieda's hand.
Frieda smiled, her lip trembling. "I... I should have been here sooner. I'm sorry, dear."
Layla's smile faded. "Are you all right, Frieda?"
Frieda cleared her throat, shook her head, and smiled firmly. "I'll be fine, dear. I'm here now."
"Have you been on a walk yet, dears? We can go with you, if you'd like?" Babs offered.
Warren shook his head. "We haven't gone yet. I was going to go up to the roof and see the view."
"That's a lovely idea. Ready, dear?" Babs asked, offering her hand to Frieda.
Grateful that Babel had redirected their attention from her, Frieda smiled and stood. They waited as Layla and Warren stood, Layla stretching before she moved to Warren and ensured he did the same, taking his hand and the anti-grav disc in the other.
"Ida will be coming to assess us in about an hour; would you like to stay for the checkup and results?" Layla asked as they headed out onto the landing.
"That would be nice, dear. You don't mind?" Frieda asked.
"Not at all. Thank you, Frieda," she said with a smile.
Frieda smiled back at her, glad that she'd let Babs convince her to visit, despite her irrational fears.
...
Corvin was weirdly nervous. He'd asked a couple of friends over for dinner, that was all. He'd had friends over before and it hadn't felt weird like this, though. Finn was eating the salad he'd made with gusto, and Phineas was eating both his and half of Finn's lasagna like he hadn't been eating a family size bag of potato chips when he'd answered the door ten minutes ago.
Reaching for the garlic bread he'd toasted and set in the middle of the table, Corvin grabbed a piece and snatched it away a split second before Phineas smacked his hand.
"Shit. Sorry," Phineas said with a wince. "Not used to formal dining. They made us fight for our food sometimes."
Finn chittered something to him, her voice low and calming, and Corvin tried not to feel left out when Phineas looked at her with pure adoration.
"It's all good. Did you want garlic bread, too?" Corvin asked, holding the bread basket out to him.
"Uh. Yeah. Thanks," Phineas said, taking a piece slowly and watching Corvin like a proverbial hawk.
"Finn, how about you?" Corvin asked, holding the basket out.
Finn took a moment to decide, her nose twitching. She finally nodded, taking a piece as fast as he had, as if she expected him to yank the basket away from her.
Corvin set the basket down and grabbed his cutlery, wondering if he could find out where they'd been and who had held them captive, and if he could kill the bastards slowly for making Phineas and Finn fight for food.
"Are you okay, Corvin?" Finn asked, her nose twitching.
Realising the grip he had on his cutlery probably looked murderous to outsiders, he set the knife and fork down carefully, and looked between Finn and Phineas. They were both looking at him now, Finn worried, and Phineas looking ready to throw himself in front of Finn if he had to. Corvin swallowed hard and forced himself to breathe slowly so he wouldn't say or do something stupid. "The people who had you. Are they dead?"
Both Finn and Phineas seemed surprised by his question, but Finn nodded adamantly.
"Good. Do you want to eat in my room instead of at the table? We won't get into trouble; Ma eats walking around the house all the time. It's why we have a Roomba," Corvin said.
"What's a Roomba?" Phineas asked curiously.
"It's a robotic vacuum cleaner. I'll show you," Corvin said, heading to the wall where the Roomba was sleeping.
Pressing the power button, he watched the Roomba light up and start its ambling route through the apartment. Finn was fascinated, her eyes wide as she sat up tall and ducked down low under the table to watch the Roomba's progression. Phineas, on the other hand, stared at the Roomba in abject horror. He brought his feet up to his seat and looked ready to pounce on the poor innocent Roomba, so Corvin pressed the button to return it to its base.
"It's cleaned a line on the floor, see? This is where Ma was eating before, this is where the Roomba cleaned. I can set it to run when we're not in here," Corvin added, concerned about Phineas' reaction.
"Can we eat in your room and bring the Roomba with us?" Finn asked.
"Finn," Phineas said, eyes wide.
Finn chewed her bottom lip. "Oh. Never mind. We'll leave the Roomba out here."
"What's wrong with it?" Corvin asked curiously. "The shape or the, uh, noise?"
Phineas still looked like he wanted to attack the Roomba, so Finn answered, "The noise. They used machines like that to test the smaller shifters. They killed a squirrel shifter that way. I was kidnapped a week later to replace the squirrel. Phineas never let them take me for that test; he'd hide me and 081 would find me when it was safe."
Corvin wondered if he could get any satisfaction out of killing people who were already dead. Setting fire to their bones might ease the fire he felt in his chest right then. "Let's eat in my room," he said finally, grabbing his plate.
Finn grabbed hers with an eager smile and Phineas glanced over to the Roomba briefly before taking his plate and the bread basket to follow them to Corvin's room.
Corvin sat down on the floor, balancing the plate on his lap, and watching to see what Finn and Phineas would do. Finn sat beside him, practically curled up against his side, and Corvin looked to Phineas to see his response. Phineas didn't seem to mind and sat on the other side of Corvin, pressed against him from shoulder to leg.
"Is this okay, Corvin?" Finn asked shyly, picking at her salad.
He nodded adamantly. "Yes. Are you both sure?"
"Yes," Phineas replied firmly, stealing a chip off Corvin's plate.
It didn't really clarify things and he still had a long list of questions, but this was a start. Corvin settled between them and concentrated on eating. He could ask his questions later.
...
"You're better and free to return to school next week, Layla. Next time you decide to be under a collapsing building, don't," Ida said sternly.
"I'll try to remember that," Layla said, her lips twitching into a full grin. "Thank you for looking after us, Dr. Spattle."
"Mm-hmm. You'll be getting my bill; I almost lost my MRI machine," Ida said.
"Did Sandsapien ruin it again?" Frieda asked curiously.
"Almost. Now, Warren, let's see you walk up and down the hallway five times without falling, and then I'll release you for next week, too."
Warren had been doing his exercises and strengthening his leg muscles, but he had needed to hold onto the anti-grav disc just that evening on the way back from their visit to the roof - and it had involved the elevator, not stairs, for Super God's sake! He doubted much had changed in the last hour, but he was determined to try.
He completed three and a half laps before his legs trembled and gave way beneath him. Warren gripped the anti-grav disc tightly, cursing as he straightened up and made it back to the room slowly.
"All right, before I say anything, let me ask you: if you go to Sky High next week, do you feel confident that you can walk to all of your classes and up and down the hallway with all those other students around, especially with a lower dose of the medication you're on?" Ida asked.
Warren bit the inside of his cheek. "Fuck."
Ida raised her eyebrow at him. "That's not a yes or no, Warren."
Babel repressed a laugh; every part of that word had been a resounding 'no' with a hint of frustration and annoyance. She couldn't blame him, really. It had almost been a whole week, and a super couldn't afford to be incapacitated for that long, no matter whether they were a hero or villain.
"No," Warren finally said with a sigh.
"Good answer."
"Can I stay, too?" Layla asked, Ida and Frieda both frowning over at her. "We're both meant to have the flu, so I don't want to go back earlier than Warren. People will think I faked it or something."
Ida sighed. "All right, I'll extend your medical certificate for another week. But you have to start walking with Warren, understood? Three times a day."
"Yes, Dr. Spattle."
"Terrence owes me a new x-ray machine for all this," Ida said.
"What happened to the last one?" Layla asked curiously.
"Sandsapien," Ida replied. "All right, you both rest for now. I'll send your exercises through in the morning, okay?"
"Thank you, Dr. Spattle."
"We should probably leave you, too. It's been so good to see you both. I'll visit tomorrow or Sunday again," Frieda promised, squeezing Layla's hand and kissing her temple gently.
"I look forward to it. Have a nice night, Frieda."
"Thank you, dear. You look after yourself. You too, cutie," she said with a smile.
Warren just looked defeated at the endearment.
"I don't know if I'll be able to visit this weekend, but I'll make sure to come by next week. I've got some bruising creams that can help, if you'd like?" Babs offered.
"Thank you, Babs."
"They'll need it. Since you're both staying in my care longer, I'll start lowering the dosage this weekend for you, Warren, and weaning you off entirely, Layla. Any underlying blood clots will come up with a vengeance."
"All right, thank you for the warning."
"Enjoy your night," Warren said with a brief wave, watching as they all left and closed the door behind them, before he looked over at Layla. "You don't have to stay for my benefit, hippie. You can go back to Sky High. Ida could give you painkillers to get through the day, and you'll be fine."
"And miss out on what happens on The Days of our Super Lives?" Layla teased.
Warren snorted. "It's his evil twin brother, like you didn't guess that already."
Layla shrugged. "The evil twin could have reformed and the other one is really the good twin in disguise. They've shown enough of both twins to make them both morally grey, rather than black and white."
"True, but do you honestly think Ricardo is going to look after his good twin's baby?"
"There's nothing wrong with a loving father or uncle being portrayed on daytime television, even if they're evil."
"Hmm, not arguing that. But I still think they're going for the evil twin brother."
Layla smiled. "We'll both find out next week, won't we?"
Warren grinned. "Want to bet on it?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"First heist plan?"
Layla's eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled. "Deal. If it's the evil twin, you win. If it's the good twin, we're robbing Magnificent Mile in Chicago. It's their version of Westville with less crime, so no one will expect it."
Warren blinked. "I thought that was one for later?"
"We've got enough people to do it, and I think it's a good start. What were you thinking?" Layla asked curiously.
"Politician's Annual Charity Ball. They say the money goes to charity, but they cap it at fifty-thousand dollars in the small print. The rest fills their pockets and funds their political campaigns. Last year they raised a million dollars."
"What?! I donated to them last year!"
Warren smirked. "Congratulations, hippie. You helped fund the Mayor's family first campaign."
Layla shuddered. "I'm going to kill that man one day."
"I'll be right there with you," Warren promised.
Layla slipped out of her bed, stretching her legs and limbs, then made her way over to Warren's bed, curling up next to him. "I love you."
"Love you, too, hippie. Happy anniversary," he added, handing her a deep red rose.
"I didn't think you'd remember," Layla admitted, taking the rose and kissing him firmly. "Happy anniversary." She offered a rose of her own back to him, the petals black and stem a powdery white.
"That's not a rose," Warren said, stroking the petals gently, almost expecting ink to be on his fingers.
"It's a combination of a few plants," Layla admitted. "If you wear it and someone tries to take you against your will, it'll release a scent to knock them out."
Warren didn't know what to say in response, so he tilted Layla's chin up and kissed her in thanks instead. Layla was blushing as they pulled away, and with a thought of concentration, she used several vines to close the curtains around them so they could make out in private.
...
Sport was surprised that Ammie had picked tenpin bowling. He had expected a picnic or movie or a nice restaurant, not something involving throwing heavy balls.
"How long has it been since you've gone bowling?" Ammie asked as they walked to the building entrance, grinning up at him and the hem of her dress swinging around her thighs as she walked.
"A long time. I was probably still in college," Sport admitted. "I don't think I was ever really good at it then, so I doubt I will be now, either. It'll probably end up in the ditch."
"Gutter," Ammie corrected.
"Right, the gutter, then. How long since you've bowled?" Sport asked curiously.
"For fun? Oh, a while," Ammie said, not quite a lie.
Professionally, just last week, she added mentally, just for good measure.
"All right. Do we eat before, during, or after bowling?" Sport asked, seeing the small counter and large neon sign advertising chips and hotdogs.
"We can eat while we bowl, the food just has to be kept off the lane," Ammie said, nodding to the sign listing the rules.
"That's a lot of rules," Sport murmured, stepping over to the A4 sign to read the full page of text. "We're not allowed to wear our own shoes?"
Ammie glanced down to Sport's feet, a blush rising in her cheeks all over again. "You're not really a size fifteen, are you?" she asked, biting her lip.
"Thirteen and a half. I haven't disappointed you, have I?" Sport asked in a teasing lilt, grinning at her.
"No, not at all. I'll go get our shoes, if you want to get our food?" Ammie suggested.
"Sure. Any preferences? I can't imagine any of it tastes half as good as your cooking," he said with another grin.
Ammie blushed. "That's sweet of you to say. I'll have a hot dog. They're vegetarian, if that helps your decision. I'll book a lane and be right back with our shoes, okay?"
Sport nodded, watching as she headed over to the counter, then headed to the food counter. As he walked over, he passed by a wall of photos, glancing at them briefly. Stopping short on recognising the blonde woman in one of the photos as Ammie, Sport looked from the photo of Ammie holding a trophy almost as tall as herself over to where she was paying for their games and shoes. He continued to the food counter, trying to decide if he was annoyed at her half-truth - she looked far too serious in the photo to have bowled in a tournament for fun - or if he was amused at her choice of date venue, knowing that she'd kick his ass at bowling.
"Hi, what can I get for you?" a woman asked brightly, smiling and her cheeks going pink as she had to look up to see his face.
"Two hot dogs and drinks. Do you know Ammie's usual drink?" he asked curiously.
The woman - Nikki, according to her name tag - seemed surprised by his question, then smiled again and nodded. "Sure, the lemon fizz drink. What would you like to drink?"
"I'll have the same, thanks. How long have you worked here?" Sport asked as she rang up their order and took his cash.
"Almost six years. It's not the worst job in Maxville," Nikki replied with a brief shrug, handing back his change.
"I'm guessing Ammie's a regular, if she's got her photo up on the wall?"
Nikki laughed. "You're kidding, right? She's the Ohio state champion. Ammie's going to nationals next month."
"Wow, that's impressive," Sport said; he didn't even know there were championships for tenpin bowling.
"Yeah, it is. I haven't seen her here with anyone other than Core for... well, it's been a long time," Nikki said with a grin.
"You seem to know a lot about Ammie."
Nikki shrugged. "I know a lot about lots of people. But they're not the ones here on a date with you, are they?"
Sport decided that answering that could be dangerous, so simply nodded and stepped back to allow the next person in line to place their order. By the grin on Nikki's face, Sport figured his silence was just as damning.
Balancing their hot dogs and drinks on a plastic tray, Sport turned to try to find Ammie. He smiled when he saw her waving from a lane at the far end, and headed over with their food and drinks.
"They had a pair of thirteen and fourteen. I wasn't sure which one would fit better with a thirteen and a half," Ammie said, smiling.
"I guess we'll both find out," Sport said, setting the tray down. "Are you excited for nationals?"
Ammie's pleased expression fell and she glared over at Nikki. "What did she tell you?"
"I saw your photo on the wall, and Nikki told me you're the state champion. Congratulations," Sport said, untying his shoelaces.
"You're not upset?" Ammie asked.
"You made the distinction about playing for fun very clear, I just didn't realise there was any other way to play, or I would have asked," Sport said, tugging off his boot and reaching for a shoe.
"Are those penguins on your socks?"
Sport blushed. "I thought they'd be lucky, since you like penguins."
Ammie grinned. "You thought you'd need luck?"
He shrugged, untying the size fourteen and slipping one shoe on his foot. "I didn't want to take any chances. I like you, Ammie."
Ammie had no idea how to respond. Sport's simple honesty was certainly not what she remembered about any of the previous men she'd dated. Several had left as soon as they found out she'd played bowling in tournaments - not quite the state champion back then, but gaining - and others had wrinkled their nose at the idea of bowling as a date idea in the first place. Dick had, infamously, been caught trying to crawl out of the men's bathroom window. They'd had to call the fire department to get him out, several people trying to distract the Commander before he destroyed half the building to rescue Dick.
"You'll have to remind me how to play while we eat. Nikki said you liked the lemon fizz drink," Sport said, nodding to their food and drinks.
"Oh. That was nice of her," Ammie said, feeling guilty for glaring.
"The fourteen fits. I think the thirteen will pinch. Do I need to take these back to the counter?" Sport asked with a smile.
"I'll do it. I'll be right back," Ammie said, taking the shoes and hurrying to the counter to try to give herself some space and time to think.
Sport inhaled and exhaled, remembering Gramps' instructions for meditating and taking the time to try to work out what he was feeling. Vulnerable, worried, hoping he hadn't already screwed things up with Ammie by saying he liked her when they barely knew each other. But that was what dating was all about, right?
" - reminder to watch Channel Five's exposé on missing supers, and now even citizens are being taken in broad daylight," Brain Anderson said from the TV screen in the corner. Images of The Lost Boys organisation displayed, followed by the tattoo artist and his wife, and the father of five who had been in the news recently.
Ammie's fingers itched for her phone to call Core and make sure he was all right. She had left her phone at the alley and only brought the shoes, damn it. She could ask Sport to take them home. Back to the secure building filled with children and so many security guards and even internal security features that Hourglass had promised would protect her and Corvin before they'd agreed to move in. It would be an insult to Sport's profession, and Hourglass' promise as a seer, and Ammie knew that she had to trust them. She couldn't continue to let her fear restrict Core and his power, though she still felt nauseous any time she even thought about Corvin flying outside, and she -
"Ammie? You all right there?" Nell asked from the front counter, frowning at her.
"Oh. I'm fine. Thanks, Nell," Ammie said quickly, smiling as she left the shoes at the counter.
She headed back to the lane before Nell could call her out on her lie, or worse, interrogate her about Sport. Ammie had brought her own bowling ball, and Sport was trying out a few balls for himself, lifting the 7kg balls like they weighed nothing. She tried not to blush at the thought of him picking her up just as easily and forced herself to breathe and steady her racing heartbeat, all thoughts of calling Core washed away in a wave of lust for the man in front of her.
"The black one at the bottom is a 10kg ball. It's the heaviest they have, but trust me, if you haven't played in a while, they'll feel twice that weight by the end of the game," Ammie said with a smile.
"Thanks. I might go for the 8kg, then," Sport said, setting one back on the rack and grabbing the purple ball instead. "Do you want this to be a test run for nationals or do you want to play for fun?" he asked as she joined him in the small seating area.
Ammie grabbed her drink and sipped, glad for the sugar and distraction. No one had ever asked her before. If it was a date, she tended to play her hardest to see how her date would respond when she kicked their ass; playing every other week with Core was practice for nationals or local tournaments. She hadn't really played for fun since she was a kid.
"Let's play for fun. But I'm still going to kick your ass," Ammie decided, hoping she sounded teasing rather than demanding.
Sport smiled at her. "Look forward to it, Ammie."
...
End of the hundred and sixty-fifth chapter.
Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!
Author's note: The "I brought you flours" idea came from the movie Stranger Than Fiction.