Holding Out For A Hero - Part 3 Author: Shadow Kyle Archive: Yes, ask first please. kyle.scott@mindspring.com Website:

Warnings: Adult topics and language, M/M slash themes. This episode contains some major angst, sexual situations and rape.

Rating: R (the NC-17 version can be viewed at my website)

Universe notes: I have taken liberties with the H-Dial for this story. The story begins in 2012. Tyler Lane is the adult son of Lucy Lane, Lois Kent's sister. Lucy Lane is a single mother in this universe. His father is Ron Troupe. Aside from that, the DCU history remains true. Disclaimer: Tyler Lane and Persephone are mine. All other characters belong to the DCU of DC Comics. I'm just taking them out for a test drive. Frankly, if they were mine, more of those comics would come with and "adult content" warning.

IN THIS EPISODE: Tyler confronts some personal demons and, literally, runs into his dream man.

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I've been running now for three days. Well, not continuously, of course. I'm sure that I could probably dial a form that could do that, though. I haven't dialed up since Path a week ago. I don't know if I've been needed or not. I wanted to stay curled up in my own little world for a while. Tyler's world. It is a dark world these days. Mostly, because I sleep a lot. An awful lot. I haven't wanted to sleep this much since... No. I'm not dealing with that now. Tuck it up. Open door. Throw it in. Close the door. And lock it. Pocket the key for later. I'm only dealing with one bit of angst at a time right now.

From the morning the dial appeared, I went straight into the superhero game. I never once considered the consequences. Every little scrape or bruise was instantly healed once I became Tyler again. Never once did I think that I could die while using the dial. It's odd. I had to learn to trust the instincts of the powers. I never had to learn that what I could do might make a difference.

I suppose that was ingrained from when I was a kid. I loved reading the articles Aunt Lois wrote about Superman. It wasn't just that she wrote about what he had done to save the world this or that time. It was that her writing made him seem so real. Not like this god among men, but a real person. Like any of us could be doing what he did. I remember something he had said in one of their interviews. Lois had asked him, "Why? Why do you do it?"

"Because I can," he replied.

Was it really that simple for him? Is it supposed to be that simple for me? It's hard enough just trying to keep afloat in this world without any added burden. What would someone else do in my situation? What will I do in my situation?

I run. I've spent so much time in the park lately, just running along the paths. It feels so good to exercise my own muscles. I've only been getting a workout at nights when I'm heroed up. The effect of that exercise doesn't affect my own body though. I think on that for a moment. I don't get the benefits of a workout. I don't keep any injury. I do get exhausted. Is that more of a mental thing? The mental effects I tend to retain.

I wish I didn't. I want to forget the fear in Jamie's face. She had been through so much hell in such a short time. I want to forget her eyes, wide open and filled with terror when I pulled her through that portal. I never got to see that fear leave her face when she realized she was safe. I wonder if it ever truly will.

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I run and listen to the sound of my own blood pumping in my ears for a long while. I enjoy the thump of my feet on the pavement, each one rolling in just slightly to absorb the shock of the impact. My knees are slightly bent. With each step I spring forward again down the path. Inhale through the nose and exhale from the mouth. My heart is beating hard. Harder than it has in a very long time. Sweat is pouring off of me. I grab the tail of my t-shirt and pull it off over my head. I swab my face and chest, relishing the clammy feeling of the wet fabric against my skin absorbing the moisture. I tuck it into the back of my shorts and continue running. Running and feeling the shirt bounce against the back of my legs. Right, left, brush, slap. Right, left, brush, brush. Right up against the really sensitive spot about four inches below my ass. Gooseflesh springs up as a cool breeze glides around me. Touching me like no one has in a very, very long time. Oh, man. When was the last time I paid any attention to my own body? When was the last time someone else paid any attention to my body? I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the vibrations that were buzzing through me.

New Yorker rule number 4: Don't run with your eyes closed. I'm pretty sure it's a rule somewhere. At any rate, it's a rule I learned and numbered just when I ran into something hard and fell onto my backside.

"Oh, did someone get the number of that truck?" I groaned. I was lying flat on my back on the pavement. The sun was directly overhead and shining directly into my eyes.

Darkness crept across my face and I blinked to refocus. "Hey, you all right?" the shadow asked.

Body check: nothing broken, some light bruising probably. Ego severely smacked around a bit. If I weren't already flushed from running, I'm sure I would have turned as red as a fire truck.

"I'm fine, I think." I sat up and shook my head. There was a very nice pair of legs right in front of me. Toned and muscular and tanned. I raised my eyes and found myself looking right at his crotch. Whoa. Then the stammering started.

"I.. I.."

He leaned over me and I saw his face for the first time. No wait, not the first... time. It's him! He's the angel!

He extended his hand and I stared at it for a while before accepting it. He pulled me to my feet. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"Uh, yeah, I... I..."

"Didn't hit your head, did you?"

I rubbed the back of my head. "No, I... I don't think so." Finally, I got a sentence out! "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Don't worry about it. I've been run over by worse than you and lived to tell the tale." He grinned. "So, you're ok. Really?"

"Yeah, fine. Really."

Then things got kind of... weird, I guess. I couldn't stop staring into those big brown eyes of his. I really just wanted to dive into them and never come up for air. It was his turn to stammer.

"So, I.. uh. I should, uh, get..."

"Going." I finished for him. "Sorry about running into you."

"No foul."

Neither of us moved. The silence hung there. Well, not really silent if you take into account that my own voice was screaming at me: *Get his name! Get his number! Touch him! Reach out and pull his lips down to yours and taste him! What are you waiting for!?! DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT!!!!!*

"Ok, well. See you 'round." I said.

*idiot*

"Yeah. See you around." He smiled, *oh god*, then took off running in the opposite direction.

*fucking idiot*

Shut up.

=================================================

"Have a good run?"

"Yeah, I did," I answered.

I really had. I still have no idea what I am going to do, but I felt a little better. I hope that lasts for a while.

"So, I guess you're going to take a shower and then go back to bed now?"

Damn, she gets right to point. For someone that has lived as long as she has, tact is sorely lacking sometimes. She doesn't pussyfoot around at all. *heh, pussyfoot* I snicker at my own cleverness. Hell. If I don't, then who will?

I go to the kitchen, retrieve a bottle of water and down half of it in almost one gulp. Perse pads in behind me and jumps up on the counter. I finish off the contents of the bottle in three more swigs, replace the cap and then throw it into the trash. I think to myself that I really should try to recycle. Ok, deep breath now.

"Actually, I figured that I would shower, browse the want-ads again, ...then get ready for a patrol."

"Good."

"You think?"

"Yes." she nodded. "And this time, I'm coming with you."

*Well, this should be new and different.*

"Shut up and go take a shower."

"..."

When exactly did my cat become such a hardass? I know, I know. She's no ordinary cat.

=========================

I stripped off my clothes and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I'm going to have to start going to the gym more. In the past weeks, I've lost a little of the muscle definition that I had worked so hard to get over the past few years. It didn't help that I hadn't eaten much lately, either. I was such a typical gym bunny. So many people called me that, with just a little more disdain in their voice than was necessary.

What did they know, anyway? They weren't there when I was the chubby queer kid getting beat up in school. They weren't there when I felt unattractive. They weren't there when I hated myself. They weren't there when I started to lose the weight. They weren't there when I finally felt good about myself. They weren't there when I was finally getting noticed. They weren't there when I fell in love for the first time. They weren't there when it turned sour and he told me how ugly I was. They weren't there when he hit me. They weren't there when his friends... No. Pack it up. Put it away. They didn't know. And I didn't want to know.

I set the showerhead to pulse, then turned on the water. The water beat the tile mercilessly. I drew back the curtain and stepped in. The water beat my muscles the same way it had the tile, but the sound was different. More of a dull thud that a whacking sound. It felt sooooo good. The water worked its way across my back and then chest as I slowly spun around. My tension fell away in chunks. I imagined each bit of stress getting knocked off and then breaking into a million pieces on the tiles.

"Let it go, let it go," I whispered aloud to myself.

I adjusted the angle of the spray, picked up the liquid soap and squeezed the gel out of its container. I worked it over my skin, feeling each muscle along the way. It's still there. I'm not that fat kid anymore. I slowly rubbed the lather across my chest, tangling my fingers in the hair. My hand brushed over one nipple. It responded immediately, stiffening at my caress. I brought my other hand up and gave the same attention to its ignored twin. It responded just as eagerly. No, I'm not that kid anymore. I smiled to myself. Sliding my hands from my chest, I felt the muscles in my abdomen. Counting each set as I moved lower and lower... Images of my angel filled my head. I replayed the encounter in the park. This time I pulled him into my arms for a soul-satisfying kiss. He responded in turn. My tongue parted his lips and I tasted mint, mint and heat. He broke the kiss and I looked up into his eyes. Oh, those eyes. Strong arms encircled my frame and pulled me in closer. Nothing else mattered but this. Nothing else... Nothing.

=========================

I exited the steamy bathroom still drying my hair.

"Good shower?" Perse asked from the living room. I could just feel her smirk.

"The best." I shyly grinned to myself.

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I sat on the sofa with the papers spread out before me. The Times, Backstage, the Post, Variety, even a couple of from Jersey. Yes, I was that desperate. I was never a good waiter. That was definitely not an option for me. Anyway, with all that time I spent in college studying the business side of the arts, I did not want to be another one of those struggling artistic types at The Hard Rock Cafe pushing appetizers, Captain Crunch chicken fingers, and desserts. Maybe Cameron Macintosh's office had an opening, I thought as I reached for my address book when the phone rang. Praying it was Rivka with good news, I answered it quickly."

"Hello?"

"Tyler?"

"Speaking." Damn, I thought. It's not Rivka.

"Tyler, it's Donna. How are you doing? I heard about the show and everything."

"Yeah. Well, that's show biz I guess." I tried not to sound as bitter as I really was.

"Well, I hope you don't really feel that way. I have a proposition for you..."

I listened as Donna explained that "Vampires" gig was something of a break for her. She had a name as a fashion photographer, but was trying to branch out. That was where I came in.

"Tyler, I need an assistant. With your theatrical contacts, I think you would be good to help expand my career."

My heart stopped.

"Donna, are you offering me a job?"

"Yes. Are you interested?"

Let me think. I've got no other prospects. I'd rather not wind up at Beefsteak Charlie's. I'll still be working in the arts since she wants to go in that direction. She probably won't freak out if I dial up at the office. One second later:

"Hell, yeah!"

=========================

"You really want to do this?" I asked. Persephone stepped into the backpack and settled down.

"Yes. I need to see how you work while out there."

"I don't need a babysitter, Perse." I was a bit peeved. I *had* been patrolling my neighborhood streets alone with no problems before.

"I'm not going to baby-sit, Tyler. You still are in training. I'll watch. I won't be barking commands at you. You'll be on your own." She said. "Think of me as an observer. A critic even."

*Great. Ben Brantley is going out to watch me play superhero.*

"It's for your own good. It's not like I can supervise you in a big room to watch you let you loose and learn the full extent of your capabilities. Not everything you can do stems from the powers. And sometimes, the powers can work against you."

I had already learned that. Not being able to communicate vocally as Path was a bitch. Troia and I could have saved a lot of valuable time if I could have spoken. Maybe I should learn sign language, I thought.

I hoisted her onto my back.

"Comfy?"

She poked her head out of the opening. "I'm fine. Are there any snacks on this flight?"

=================================================

Perse is such a touch-slut. We stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. Immediately, she was the center of attention. Everyone just had to pet her and tickle her chin. The doorman even nuzzled her a little, pressing his nose to her own. I still felt her mental purring still when we were a block away.

"You know," I said, "it's not like I never pet you."

"Oh, please. Like you don't get off when someone new touches you."

Touché.

We headed a couple of blocks south as the setting sun disappeared beyond a horizon that the skyline would be forever blocked to the earthbound folk in this city. I had seen pictures of some terrific sunrises and sunsets taken in the city, but they were always shots from helicopters or the tops of buildings. I wondered what it would be like to see a sunset from the desert.

I had suggested that we begin patrolling on the top of my building. She thought that it would be more beneficial to work from the street level. She's right of course. I don't always have the ability to fly or move with superspeed when I dial up. No sense in lost time because I have to race down a fire escape to get to the pavement.

It was turning out to be a fairly boring evening after about two hours. The only crime so far had been that one guy who insisted of petting Perse. I guess a Member's Only jacket can still be considered a crime of fashion. If they've become retro, I don't want to know. Maybe word had gotten out that this neighborhood was out of bounds now. The media coverage was pretty intensive there for while. Maybe I should branch out.

"Perse..?"

"I know. It's really quiet out here. I'm not catching any aggressive thoughts at all."

"Do you think..."

"...it's time to seek prey elsewhere?" she finished.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it that way. But, yeah..."

"Where would you like to go tonight?"

"How about the Village?"

=========================

"Subway or cab?" I asked.

"Go ahead and use the dial. We can decide after that." Perse answered.

We turned into an alley and I willed the dial into my hand. I began to dial, then thought better of it. "Hold on." I took the backpack off and set Perse on the ground. No sense risking becoming a lava monster and burning her alive.

Perse poked her out of the flap, "Thank you. I'm not quite ready to move on to my next life yet."

I grinned at her, "See? I am learning. Now let's see if I can fly." H-E-R- O. Flash! Black boots folded down over my shins. Yellow spandex pants with a black stripe down the outside. Black belt with a lightning bolt insignia. Yellow top with a black shoulders. The black coming to a point just above my chest. Black gauntlets and yellow gloves without fingers.

"So?"

"Electical field. I can absorb electricity and then release it through my hands. And I can fly!" I picked up Perse's bag and slipped her onto my back. I looked up for a clear path and... "Ready?"

"Yes. Go."

The orchestra began to play as I lifted us into the air. Soft and lilting, almost playful. Once above the buildings, I spun to get my bearings. The woodwinds entered mezzo piano gradually building to piano in a counterpoint to the strings. A violin soloist rose above with the melody as I concentrated on my destination.

"Tyler?"

"Yes?"

"What is that?"

"What is what?"

"The music. Why do you have a soundtrack?"

"Um... Remember when I told you about how Path was wearing just a loincloth and boots? No underwear?"

"I remember."

"Well, I've learned that the dial can be kind of playful sometimes. I think it enjoys the jokes and bad puns it comes up with."

"All right. I know I'm going to regret this, but what is your name now?"

"First, promise you won't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?"

"Promise me you won't laugh."

"I promise."

I sighed deeply, and then said, "the Conductor."

She lied to me. I decided then and there to put a mousetrap in her litter box.

=========================

We soared over the city, leaving a trail of electricity and music in our wake that would make even the toughest music critic sit up and take notice. I wonder if I can turn it down? Broadcasting my whereabouts to a criminal is not the brightest of situations. I visualized a volume down button, concentrated on the sound and... Silence.

Persephone had been unusually quiet during the trip. I could feel that she was curled up in the bottom of the backpack. "Perse? Are you ok back there?"

"I'm well. It's just that flying has never seemed natural to me. Even before I was a cat, I never cared for it. Plus, I seemed to have developed a rather bad case of static cling. I cannot get this lint off my fur. I believe I will stay here until you can pull this charge from me." Oops. We hadn't considered the effect the residual electricity might have on her. I can't pull the charge back while flying. It's what is keeping me up. I definitely can't be wearing the pack if I release a larger charge. She'll be fried.

"We'll be landing soon, Perse. I'll take care of you then."

I descended to just below the top of the buildings and flowed the path of 7th Avenue. People of the street were staring and pointing. First the first time in my life, that didn't feel like such a bad thing. I smiled to myself and turned up the volume of the music. The majestic sound of trumpets filled the air, crescendo building and echoing off the bricks and glass. Waving at the people below, I thought to myself, "Try that, Superman."

"Don't get cocky," Perse's voice rang over the music.

"OK, OK." The music faded into the background so that I could just barely hear it. Humming to myself, I landed on a roof.

"Where are we?" Perse asked as I lifted the bag off and set it on the ground.

"Chelsea. I decided to start here then work my way over to Avenue A. Come on out."

"No."

"Perse, I need to pull the charge from you."

"Do it from out there."

"What's wrong with you? Come on out!"

"No!" She resisted as I reached into the bag and lifted her up. The visual image was of a cat that had just come out of the dryer with no fabric softener. All her hair was standing on end and there were flecks of lint covering her muzzle and paws.

"One laugh from you! One smart remark and I shred every curtain and cushion in the apartment!" She lifted one paw to my face and extended her claws to make her point.

Oh, it was hard not to laugh! I decided to tuck this vision away and bring it back for a later time. I concentrated and pulled the charge to myself. Her fur relaxed slightly and then I smoothed it down, brushing the lint from her. I set her on the roof and she immediately went about grooming herself.

"So, what are you waiting for? Get going!"

"Aren't you going to come with me?"

"No need. I can link with you as long as you're not too far away. I'll let you know before the link fades."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I don't relish being a puffball ever again."

In spite of her threat, I chuckled as I rose to begin my patrol.

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I'm bored. Bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored. Nothing's happening here either. Earlier I thought I saw a girl breaking into a car, but it turned out to be hers. She had locked the keys inside. I about gave her a heart attack when I appeared, electricity crackling in my fists. She finally managed to jimmy the lock and retrieve her keys. But not before giving me a lecture about how metahumans think that they rule the city, and how much better "normal" people would be without them and left to fend for their selves.

So now I'm on a rooftop about five blocks away from Perse right now, twiddling my thumbs. We discovered that her contact range is about seven blocks or so. Pretty far, I think. I wonder if that is good, though. I mean, there is the advantage to being able to contact me anywhere in the world, but do I really want that? It's still kind of weird with her presence there most of the time. She's good about not invading my mind when I need personal time. But maybe I should work at building some mental blocks. Not against her specifically. But, what if I encountered another mentalist? Perse popped into my head fairly easily. What if someone else did the same and was able to control me that way? I really didn't want to be another hero that went bad. I wonder if Donna ever worried about that sort of...

"Tyler, I'm feeling distress and pain around your area. Are you OK?" Perse slipped into my thoughts.

"Yes. Could it be someone else?"

"Possible. It's very faint, so it's further away that I can pinpoint."

"I'm on it." I flew up into the air and began scanning the streets for signs of trouble. I really wish this form came with enhanced hearing or sight. I came to the edge of the Perse's range.

"Tyler, you're about to lose me."

"I know, Perse. But nothing is happening around here. I'll be back soon."

I flew over the next two blocks. Nothing. Maybe I would catch something on the ground. I landed at the corner and began pacing the streets, listening for any signs of trouble. The streets were deserted this time of night. No cars, no people. What was it that she heard?

I stepped into an alley and heard sounds of sex. Rough sounds. At the end of the passage, I saw them: two guys standing with their pants pulled down around their thighs, masturbating. Another guy on the pavement, pounding hard into someone else.

"You like that don't you, faggot?"

"Yeah, he likes it, man!"

"Gonna bust a nut in you, fag! Is that what you want, pussyboy? Huh? You like that, don't you? You gonna like it when I'm done? Huh? Then my buds are gonna do the same thing. We gonna tear your ass up tonight. Just like you want it."

"...no."

"Shutup, faggot!"

*oh my god, they're raping him*

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"So, uh, we heard from Ken that you got a pretty tight ass. That true?"

They were on me before I could react. Two of them held me face down while the other pulled off my pants and underwear. I heard him spit and then felt his wet fingers work into me.

"Oh, yeah, he was right. You are tight." He shoved another finger in.

"Here, put this on. No telling what you might get from him."

I heard the sound of paper tearing. I heard him spit again. I felt him spread me. I felt his...

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"GET OFF OF HIM!" I exploded into the alley. The music swelled to a tremendous cacophony, mirroring my rage. From each hand, I threw a charge at the two guys standing. They twitched wildly and then went down.

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"...no, please don't. please."

"Do something to shut him the fuck up!"

"Oh, I got something to shut him up!" He dropped to his knees and grabbed my hair, lifting my head. "You bite me and I'll kill you."

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"GET OFF YOU BASTARD! GET OFF OF HIM!" I grabbed his hair and pulled him back. Dragging him away, I heard him yell from the pain of his exposed flesh getting scraped on the pavement. I didn't care. I jerked him up to his feet and spun him around. The crackle began on my fist as I pulled back, illuminating my face. The bastard's eyes grew wide. I snapped my punch against his jaw, letting the charge blast into him. He fell to his knees, shaking from the shock. I grabbed his collar and brought him back to his feet, holding him there. Blood spit from his mouth. The stubble on his cheek was singed and smoking, slightly. I pulled back my other hand pulled back and hit him again. Electricity surged about me now. The alley was awash with light. He fell from my grasp and crumpled on the pavement. He didn't move. His friends didn't move either.

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"Ken was right. You are a good fuck. He must miss that about you."

=========================

"Come on! GET UP!!!"

They didn't move.

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I drew the electrical field back into myself, breathing heavily. The alley was dark once more. I willed the orchestra back, mournful sounds of the violins played softly in my ears. Their victim had pulled himself out of the way and was crouched against the wall. He had got himself together, as best he could, but was still disheveled and shaking. His face wore the bruises from when he had been struck. His lip was busted and blood had begun to dry on his chin. He looked up at me with the widest blue eyes I had ever seen, unsure that the danger had passed. I didn't know what to do. I usually didn't stick around after beating up the bad guys. But, there was no way I was going to leave him alone. I stepped towards him and, whimpering, he scrambled further back. He was terrified of me. There was no way I could approach him like this. Running out and around the corner into the street, I dialed myself back to Tyler. I took a couple of deep breaths and then I raced back down into the alley, trying hard to look as if I had just come onto the scene. I found him still balled up against the wall, crying softly.

"Hey." I spoke. He jerked his head back and those same terrified eyes flashed back up. He looked at me for a few moments before speaking.

"I didn't mean to," his voice was trying desperately to hold back the sobs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... They... They just... I'm sorry. I'm sorry...."

"It's all right now. No one is going to hurt you anymore." I lied. He will be hurting from this for years. Those same guys will always be around the corner, waiting to come back and hurt him.

I offered my palm to him. He stared at it blankly for a moment before reaching out his shaky hand and accepting. I grasped him slightly and helped him to his feet. He was biting his lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. It was a fight he was losing. His knees buckled under him and he started to fall. I gripped him and lowered us to the pavement. He gave into his pain and cried for himself, pressing his face to my chest. I held him in my arms, gently trying to rock away his pain. A light fell into my eyes and I looked up into the face of a police officer.

"We need an ambulance." I said.

I focused again on the man who now had wrapped his arms around me, weeping softly. I continued to rock him in my grip, my hand brushing the damp hair away from his face. "You're safe now. You're safe."

=========================

Once I was within range I called out to Persephone. Mentally, I explained what had happened and that I would be back with her soon.

"I'm fine here. How is the boy?"

The boy. He was just a boy; barely twenty years old it turned out. "He's on his way to St. Vincent's Hospital. Hopefully, there is not too much wrong physically. Some cuts and bruises. There is the danger of infection and maybe STD's. Most of the healing will be done much later. He's going to have a lot to work through."

"And the others?"

"They came to shortly after the cops arrived and found themselves already handcuffed."

We talked more about the fight as I walked back. When I got to a secluded place, I prepared the dial. Now is the time that I really wish I could anticipate who I would become.

"Maybe you can now."

"What? You mean like TRY to become someone that can fly, or teleport?"

"No. Try to recall one of your earlier forms."

I willed the dial back into my hands and concentrated... When I looked at myself, I was back in the familiar black leather pants and vest. I rose into the air. Above the buildings I paused to get my bearings and spotted Perse waiting by the backpack.

"Well, Vesper is back, I see. Oh, goody, more flying."

"At least this time you won't become a big fluffy ball of static cling." I tried not to grin.

She stepped into her bag. "Just don't phase out while you're wearing me, ok?"

"You got it, boss," I said as I lifted her onto my shoulders. "Ready to go home?"

"Yes, little grasshopper." She smiled in my mind.

=========================

The next two weeks were something of a blur. I had begun work at Donna's studio and realized just how bad she was at taking care of the business side of her profession. It took some time, but I managed to get her files in an order that I could work with and even lined up a job shooting a new off-Broadway show. The hours are really agreeable, too. She doesn't spend her nights patrolling the city like I do, but she understands that I do need some rest eventually, So, sleeping in is a new luxury that I never really had before. I can usually get there by 10:00am and have the coffee brewing before she even steps through the front door.

I have expanded my night patrols to include the Chelsea area. Donna assured me that Green Arrow was a strong influence on the Village area, so I never made it to that side of town. I don't know how he would feel with a new costume darkening his streets at night. I don't know the protocol for these types of things.

I am able to call back more of my earlier forms now, though I tend to use Vesper more than the others. Call me nostalgic, but the first one seems to have become the most useful. Plus, I really like the way that body looks, definitely not hard on the eyes at all.

I went to visit the kid from the alley after his first night in the hospital. He was doing fine, if a little banged up. No lasting physical damage for now, but he will have to get an HIV test later to be really sure. He really didn't remember much about the Conductor at all. Just that some electrical man had beat up the bad guys and then took off. He didn't remember struggling to get away when the Conductor approached him. He gave his statement to the police and they questioned me about the mystery man. I brushed it off, suggesting it was probably just some new meta in town.

=========================

Donna came bursting into the studio and went straight into her office. A moment later she came rushing right back out and approached my desk.

"Tyler," she said, placing her palms flat on my desk and leaning into me. "What happened to my room?"

"Well, I've taken all the loose papers floating around and then organized and filed them alphabetically by client in your cabinet. They are also in a database I created that is now loaded onto your pc. The database cross- references contacts and models as well as the different agencies you work with. Invoices for equipment and supplies I now keep out here in my files. And then..." I rambled off the work that I had accomplished in the past two weeks and her expression went from one of near rage to near ecstasy."...and I replaced the light bulbs with some that cast a more natural light."

She raced around behind my desk and lifted me up into a great big Amazonian hug. "You are a gift straight from Olympus, Mr. Lane!"

"Donna?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry." She set me back down. "So what's on the books for today?

"Not much really. You have a phone conference with Feast magazine at 3:00pm. Before and after that you're clear. I figured we could take time to inventory your equipment."

"Ok. So what are your plans for lunch today?"

"None, really."

"Good, you can join me and a friend."

=========================

We stood outside of Roman's, a small cafe two blocks from the studio. We were checking out the forever-changing menu on a chalkboard sign when I heard the voice.

"Hey, sorry I'm late."

My heart tripped up when I heard the voice. *oh my god*

"No, problem. We just got here. Oh, I want you to meet my new assistant, Tyler Lane."

*remember to breathe remember to breathe remember to breathe*

I turned slowly and came face to face with Donna's friend.

*air comes in air goes out air comes in air goes out*

"Tyler, this is Grant Emerson."

=========================

"He's single you know."

I had spent an incredibly weird lunch stammering and stuttering. Donna and Grant were so at ease with each other and I felt like a bit of a third wheel. Donna did her best to keep me involved, but it was a lost cause. My antipasto salad was the most important thing in the world. Except for when I could steal a glance at Grant Emerson. My god, even his name was attractive.

"Huh?"

"Grant is single. Maybe you should ask him out."

Oh here comes the stammering again. "Donna, I, I... why would, I mean... really. Do you... I don't..."

"Tyler, I just spent an hour of my life watching you trying not to stare at Grant and not being able to speak in full sentences. I think you're attracted to him."

I felt my ears turn very red.

"And if I'm not mistaken, Grant is attracted to you."

"What? Really?" I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Really. You were so busy staring at your food, you never once saw him sneaking looks at you. I swear, I might as well have had lunch by myself for all the time that anyone actually looked at me."

"I don't know. I haven't been on a date in a long time." I wondered aloud. "You really think he's interested?"

"Trust me. I'm never wrong."

"Some sort of super sixth sense?"

"Think of it as matchmaker's intuition." She smiled. "Nice alliteration, by the way. How do you do that without lisping?"

"Practith," I deadpanned.

We laughed. Gay men everywhere need a Donna.

When we got back to the office, Donna picked up the phone and dialed.

"Grant? Hold on. I have someone here that wants to talk to you." She held the receiver out to me.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No."

"What if..."

"Shut up and take the damn phone before I beat you with it."

I wondered if Persephone is a distant relative of Donna's.

I took the receiver. "Um, hello?"

*Oh, good start*

"...hello?" He responded.

"Uh, hi Grant this is, um, Tyler."

"Oh, yeah. Hi."

*Wow, he remembered! Stupid, of course he remembered. It's only been fifteen minutes.*

"I was thinking that..." Donna caught my eye and I saw that brow arch. Damn, she can be so intimidating. "I mean, if you're interested, I was wondering if, maybe, you would like to go out sometime."

My entire body tensed. I hated this. This is one thing that just kills me. It always took me forever to just get the nerve to say hi to someone in a bar, where you are supposed to meet people. I closed my eyes and waited for the rejection.

"That sounds good. How about this Saturday?"

"That's ok. I understa... What?"

Donna smiled with an expression that just screamed 'I told you so'.

"Saturday night. We can have dinner, maybe a movie?"

*My God! He didn't say no!*

"Have you ever been to Cafe Un Deux Trois?"

Cafe Un Deux Trois was a French restaurant in the theatre district near the Belasco. It's kind of touristy, but was good. I had finagled many a private table there for the Weisman's office in the past.

"I know it. It's great. I'll... um... I can make reservations there."

"They don't take reservations."

"Let me see what I can work out. I'll call you later with details?" I hoped I really didn't sound too self important; I just wanted to impress him so much.

"All right. That would be nice," he said.

We exchanged numbers. After a goodbye that I pray didn't sound too longing or soulful, I placed the receiver back in the cradle.

"See? That wasn't hard, now, was it?" Donna laughed and went back into office. "And I want details of your date, mister!"

=========================

I floated on air the rest of the day. On the subway home, I didn't even notice being jostled about by the huge crowds. I did manage to keep from skipping from the subway station to my apartment, but just barely. I gave a big smile to the doorman of my building and hummed along with the Muzak playing in the elevator. I never realized it before, but songs by Poison were incredibly deep. I danced down the hallway and opened the door to my apartment. Perse was waiting for me.

"What the hell is a 'Grant Emerson'?"

*uh oh*

==================================================

End of part 3.

Comments are always welcome: kyle.scott@mindspring.com