AN: I'm sorry in advance for the weird change from the bus to the restaurant. I can't seem to make the page breaks show up on So, please forgive… and enjoy.

Dinner and Maybe a Show

The ride back to earth was bumpy. The bus driver, a red-haired, bee hived woman named Doris, seemed to be hitting every cloud bank on their way back, making the bus shake and dip. Margaret found herself with a white-knuckled grip onto the safety restraints, keeping her attention on the back of the seat in front of her.

Layla and Will were sitting catty corner from her, calmly enjoying the ride. She could see Layla's pretty red head resting on Will's wide shoulder. Maj, Ethan and Zach were sitting few seats ahead of her, chatting and laughing and Margaret couldn't understand why they weren't holding on for dear life.

She remembered her first trip up to Sky High with some little embarrassment. She'd screamed the whole way up and though that wasn't uncommon for freshmen, especially with then-bus-driver Ron Wilson at the helm, but she'd been taken to the nurse's office almost immediately afterward and given a shot of Demerol to calm her nerves.

The bus started it's descent. The metal box gave a final shudder as it passed through it's last cloud then leveled out. Margaret peeked away from the seatback and could see the tops of houses flashing by underneath them. She relaxed slightly and she could feel her stiffened fingers crinkle at their release.

Warren was sitting directly behind her. She could see his profile reflected in the window, his blank stare faded amongst the clouds. She wondered what he was thinking about- what all super heroes think about after a battle. Was he going over maneuvers, replaying the whole scene to think of what he might have done better? What he might have done better, the bitter voice crept into her ears, was to not get saddled with you.

"Hey," Layla's head sprung up from Will's shoulder, breaking Margaret's thoughts- and attention- from the face in the window. "Why don't we get some dinner?"

"Now?"

"Yea. I think we deserve it."

"I can't." Ethan said plainly. "We have midterms next week."

"Next week, man," Zach droned.

"I don't want to get stuck studying the night before. This is all going on our permanent records." The teens groaned.

"I'll go." Maj offered in her usual unenthusiastic way.

"Yea, it could be cool." Zach added, a little too obviously.

"Where are we going?" Will asked, wrapping his arm around Layla.

"Paper Lantern?"

"I think a celebratory egg roll might be in order." Will nodded, planting a small kiss on Layla's cheek.

"Meg, you in?"

"Yea, I could eat." She nodded.

"Great!" Layla chirped, clapping her hands together happily.

"Hey Peace," Zach called out, "We see you there man?" Warren didn't answer and Margaret saw his reflection shift in his seat and heard him give a grunting sigh. Layla took that as a yes.

"Great!" She chirped again and snuggled back into Will's side.

Margaret pushed her lo mein about her plate carelessly, not really paying attention to Zach as he explained exactly how it felt when he powered up.

She was in agony. What had started out as a post-fight dinner had turned into a double date, with Margaret as the fifth wheel. Will and Layla kept exchanging knowing, cheerful glances as Zach and Magenta finished each other's sentences and laughed at each other's jokes. Margaret smiled shallowly and excused herself to the ladies room.

The restaurant was packed. The crazy haired man and a younger waitress with large, hoop earrings were dashing about with the quick grace of those used to the food industry. Margaret could hear cooks chattering and yelling to each other in Cantonese every time the kitchen doors swung open.

She found herself peeking around the quickly closing doors to see if there was any sign of a dark haired man washing dishes, but saw nothing but a squat, angry looking man through the steam of a stir fry.

"Hello there." A familiar, friendly voice shocked Margaret out of her scan of the kitchens and back to the restaurant where a small, slightly worn looking woman was standing before her with an armful of menus and a kind smile.

"Hey, Ms. Peace."

"Hello, Peg."

"Um, it's Meg, actually"

"Meg, right. I have no mind for names." She said with a smile and a slight, apologetic bow. Margaret couldn't help but smile back.

"No, it's fine."

"Is everything alright, do you need more soup?"

"Oh, no. I was just headed for the restroom."

"Oh, of course, of course." She nodded and stepped out of Margaret's way, holding her arm out to direct the young girl's path. Margaret nodded a thank you and tucked some of her hair behind her ear as she skirted past Ms. Peace.

So, she thought, that's the indestructible Ms. Peace. It hardly seemed right. She was so tiny, so tired looking. Margaret was having a hard time believing that that woman was a secret powerhouse of healing. It was almost impossible that she should be Warren's mother…

"Ms. Peace?" Margaret found herself turning around, stopping the older lady in her tracks who then offered Meg a polite but questioning smile. "Is it true that you're an indestructible? Nurse Spex said something today at school and I was just wondering-"

Ms. Peace nodded, a wise, knowing look on her face. She crooked a finger at Margaret then started off for the kitchen. Margaret followed, taking a quick look back at the table. Maj was laughing loudly at something Zach had said, who sat there beaming his good fortune. They'll be fine without me, Margaret assured herself.

The Kitchen was noisy. The clatter of pots and the quick chip of knifes dicing rose up all around her just like the steam from the surrounding pots of dumplings. The angry looking cook said something to Ms. Peace as she passed and the older woman responded in short, nippy tones. The cook gave a short laugh then returned his attention to the wok in front of him.

Ms. Peace passed through a curtain of hanging wooden beads that clattered like bones as they parted and fell back on each other. When Margaret passed through she found herself in the restaurant's business office. A dark, wooden desk sat in the middle with a high backed leather chair behind it. The lights were dim in this room, a nice contrast from the harshness of the kitchen's fluorescents.

What caught Margaret's attention were the pictures hanging on the mahogany paneled walls. A few were of Ms. Peace- though an obviously younger version- smiling happily in front of a neat looking stucco house and one of her holding a wet, sudsy dog. There was a copy of Barron Battle's senior yearbook photo, all plaid dinner jacket and smiles and then there was a larger set that covered most of the wall.

Warren.

There were pictures of him in diapers smiling and running under a set of sprinklers. A three year old Warren offering a top-toothless-grin over his birthday cake while Barron loomed over his shoulder, a wide smile on his father's face. There were pictures of him in his pajama's, pictures in front of the Christmas tree, all of them plotting out different years, different ages. There were even a few of the Warren she knew- the tall, lean young man with the long, dark hair pulled back from face, a towel over his shoulder and an arm around his mother.

"Warren told me about your… excursion this afternoon." Ms. Peace said from behind the desk.

"Oh." She replied, because she didn't know what else to say. If there was one thing she'd learned at Sky High it was that the truth was objective, that it changed considering who was telling it, and there was no way she could tell what Warren's version of that afternoon had been.

"How are you?" She asked, a nice, mothering look on her face. She looked concerned, almost worried. It was nice. Margaret hadn't seen much of her mother lately and she didn't feel right talking about super things with her loving accountant of a father.

"I'm tired." She admitted, taking a tentative seat across from the desk. "I've never been so scared in my whole life as I was today. I don't see how you people do it."

"You people?"

"Super heroes."

"You're a hero, too." She laughed.

"But see, that's just it. All of my life I've been gearing up to be a sidekick. And now… It's a nightmare. I'm completely behind. I'm the laughing stock of the senior hero class. At this rate, I wont even graduate. I'll be stuck at Sky High for another year as some loser repeat."

"There's no shame in repeating a grade." She warned.

"No, I know." She said quickly. Warren had been kept back his freshman year which was still a point of contention for him. It was only through saving the school at homecoming and proving that he could 'play well with others'- the reason he was held back in the first place- that he'd gotten moved back to the right year.

"I just feel a bit overwhelmed. I had my whole life set around being a sidekick and now I have to learn how to lead and fight and choose sides-"

"You can't plan life, believe me." She said with a smile that struck Margaret as terribly, terribly sad. "The best we can do is be flexible, that way we stay on our feet. If we try to fight the current, we drown. You have to go with the tide."

"I know. It's just… hard." She felt like such a wimp. Of course life was hard, who did she think she was? Even as she said it, she realized that her life wasn't so bad. She had a loving family, she had finally found her power, she was healthy, she was relatively content. Maybe that's all she really had the right to ask for.

"If you wanted, I could help you." Ms. Peace's offer took Margaret by surprise.

"With what?"

"With some of your training. Believe me, sometimes it's necessary to learn outside the box."

"I don't know. I mean, I'm really bad. Embarrassingly bad."

"You're Janice Boomowski's little girl. There is nothing embarrassing about you." She said with such assuring force that Margaret thought for a moment that she'd offended the older woman.

"I'm not too sure. I'd have to check-"

"Of course, of course." She smiled politely and stood up, meaning for Margaret to understand that their 'meeting' was over. Margaret stood hastily.

"Oh," Ms. Peace's face lit up with a sudden thought and she went back into the kitchen. Margaret followed, the light almost blinding her and the smell of egg rolls making her stomach ache for her forgotten dinner. "I'd almost forgotten. Would you mind terribly bringing Warren his dinner? I'd go myself, but the we're packed and I'm afraid I've spent too much time off the floor as is-"

"Take him dinner? Isn't he here?"

"No. He's over at Al's."

"Al's?" She asked, incredulous. Ms. Peace nodded and started packing plastic take out containers of soup and noodles into a brown paper sack. Al's was a pool hall in the heart of the banks. It was a mafia stronghold during prohibition and rumors had it that Capone even spent some time at the infamous bar, spending time with the gang lord of the banks, a close personal friend of the Chicago Mafioso.

Of all the seedy places in the Banks, Al's had the worst reputation and the worst clientele. What was Warren doing there?

"Here. Just tell the man at the door you're there for Warren. They'll let you in." Ms. Peace said quickly as she pushed the full to bursting bag into Margaret's arms. The girl staggered backwards a bit.

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me." She said in a warning tone that Margaret gathered wasn't so much for her as for anyone who dared to give Ms. Peace's new delivery girl any trouble. "Now all you have to do is take a left on Monroe and you can't miss it. There's usually a crowd outside the door. Now, you'd better hurry. I don't want it to get too cold." She said gently pushed Margaret out a side door that led to the alley behind the restaurant.

The night had set in during dinner and Margaret could see the steam rising from the sewer grates that lined the curbs. A rat scuttled in a nearby trashcan, searching for scraps. Ms Peace started to close the door but stopped suddenly, taking a good look at Margaret. She smiled at the girl and gently took her chin in her small, wrinkled hand. Her skin was so smooth and cool. Margaret liked it.

"You look so much like your mother." She said quietly. "Well, you'd best get going." She gave Margaret a little wink then closed the door. Margaret stared at the metal exit for a minute before starting down the alley way for her second trip into the banks.