Chapter 12.

I was glad now that I had told Warren the truth; otherwise I would've never been able to tear Will away from my uncle. All the fury that had changed him into a sarcastic, uncaring youth was now released on the man who had once been called Secondhand. Fortunately, we were in the detention room and therefore Stronghold was unable to kill my uncle like he wished.

Five minutes later, Wallace sat on the ground panting and holding a hand to his bleeding nose. We had frisked him and found a switchblade which I quickly took possession of. Will looked satisfied for the moment but Warren stood between them in case the boy should gain a second wind.

"So," the man spat out, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Your treatment of me was enough for this, but that's not why you're here," I replied, savoring the moment, "You're here because you were too clumsy uncle."

Realization dawned on his face. He had of course known that something was amiss here, but probably had not guessed that all of his plans were for naught and that I was indeed aware of the charade from the beginning. His face took on a bitter shade of pale and his mouth screwed up in determination. It was going to be a while before he'd be willing to talk about where exactly my father was. I tried the question anyway.

"Where's my father?"

Wallace began laughing, now aware of the important status he held in the whole situation, "You think I'm just going to tell you?"

Suddenly a shock of red hair and sunglasses became visible at the window. I withdrew the apprehended switchblade and pointed it at my uncle, "Go sit against the far wall," I said jabbing towards him persuasively. He didn't look too convinced, but a glance at Stronghold sent him moving.

The door opened again and Fintan entered with another agent. Knight was notably absent, but that wasn't especially surprising considering Wallace did not know of his existence. Alerting him to that fact would put Knight in great danger, should Wallace escape the authorities again. The second agent, a burly man with dark skin and shaved head, approached my uncle and clapped a tight bracelet on his arm. It glowed slightly with the same power-draining energy as the room and was locked into place by a key.

We were now all safe to go out of the room, without worrying about my uncle fleeing back in time. I was glad to put the glowing cage behind me, but Fintan stopped us for a moment, "I'm sorry but Warren and Will will have to stay here in detention…part of the deal I'm afraid."

I'd not anticipated this. It would be the last time I'd see either of them like this again if all went as planned. Warren looked crestfallen and Will suspicious, "How will we know if you keep up your end?" Will asked.

Fintan adjusted his sunglasses with a finger, "Well…if we do hold up our end you won't know," he flashed an easy, full smile and I looked between him and Warren with growing awareness of their similarities.

Will shrugged, this time stuff was beyond him and he knew it. He took a seat at a desk again and affected a bored expression. I stood in the doorway still, as Fintan turned and walked past me, "Make it quick," he said and in a moment was gone. The tone of his voice brooked no arguments, so I simply stood, looking at Warren and wondering how exactly you said goodbye to someone who wouldn't remember you the next day.

He walked forward in a manner which might have echoed the attitude of famous male leads in old-fashioned romance movies, if not for the sniggering of Will Stronghold in the background, "You have to try Lydia, I don't care what you have to do, you have to try to make me remember," Warren said as he came to a halt next to me. He took one of my hands and rubbed the knuckles with a large thumb.

I nodded, throat closing, eyes misting at the desperate tone of voice he was using. I couldn't tell him that I knew it was hopeless, "I'll try."

"Just recite Shakespeare or something," I knew he knew it wasn't that simple.

"Ok."

"Well, I guess this is…"

Will let off a string of explicative sentences before addressing us, "Warren, would you just kiss her already?"

So I think I must disappoint when I say, it wasn't at all what I expected it to be. I think I'd put an awful lot into the idea of my first real kiss, but very little of my ideas were based in reality, more on what I'd seen or heard. All the same, I shall leave you with this thought. For all that it wasn't, it was, and when we parted there were tears in my eyes that I couldn't stop from coming. "Bye Warren," and then I left and waited for the hiss of the closing door, before wiping my eyes.

For being a decidedly unromantic person (despite my frequent perusal of Shakespeare) the whole situation seemed ridiculous to me the next moment and I tried to put it from my mind. Still a part of me took the moment and locked it up in the secret recesses of memory, to be visited later when I wasn't persuading myself to be so practical. Right now there were other things to think about, like my father and how Secondhand would be persuaded to help us to bring him back.

It was raining terribly outside. The drops were quickly turning to sleet as the temperature dropped minute by minute. I now wished I'd not used my sweatshirt as a towel, and hurried to the black car that Fintan waited by. This would hopefully be the last time I'd look upon this school; funny thing was I believed whole-heartedly that I'd miss it. Fintan opened the door for me with one swift movement and motioned for me to get in. I slid over to the other window, noting that my uncle was glaring at me beyond a sound-proof barrier in the very back of the car.

Fintan got in the car next to me, opting not to sit next to his partner in the front seat. The other agent turned the key in the ignition and we were off, to what destination I didn't yet know.

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It was two hours later. I was waiting inside a gloomy looking building in the offices of "the agency". Peculiarly enough there was neither door label nor stationary lying around that could tell me what exactly "the agency" was called. I'd seen enough people, several dozen in fact; all dressed alike to one another in dark pantsuits and sunglasses. None of them had made an effort to talk as we had passed and come to a small white room. My uncle was promptly shoved in with Fintan and his partner accompanying.

I sat outside in a nearby chair, next to a nondescript potted plant, feeling rather like I was in a hospital, waiting for some bad news. There was no sound from the white room, and in my mind I decided it must be soundproof. For if I was not too far mistaken that was an interrogation cell…not that I suspected foul play, this group would be stock-full of bureaucrats and paperwork just like any other government agency. Torture would not be an option for them.

I had begun to grow tired of looking up and down the hallway, staring at the linoleum floors and several identical doors when Fintan exited the room across from me, smiling.

"Good news," he said, "Your uncle plea-bargained for a double life sentence instead of facing a possible death penalty."

"His lawyer agreed?" I said jokingly.

"Well, once a person is classified as a super-villain they usually don't want a lawyer…actually quite a few super-villains are lawyers as their cover job," he replied with absolute seriousness.

"Oh," I answered, supposing that must be the source of all those evil lawyer jokes, "So what are we waiting for? Can we go get my dad now?"

"Yes, though it's going to be a bit more complicated than that. There's quite a bit of paperwork to fill out first," he seemed to soften at my pleading look, "but I can do that later. What's the point of being the head of an agency unless you can shove off work on lackeys?" his quick smile was there again.

"Yeah…" I laughed nervously.

"Well then," he took my hand in his, "hold on tight."

"What do you mean…" my voice squeaked as a white vacuum opened before us and we were sucked inside. I found myself clinging to Fintan's arm, unable to speak as our bodies flailed and twirled in the white nothingness around us. Suddenly a spot became visible ahead of us and we were drawn towards it with increasing velocity until there was no white at all. I closed my eyes in sheer panic until I felt the ground beneath my feet. Was this what traveling in time was like for my father? He'd never let me come with him, afraid that it'd be too dangerous.

"Time-jump," Fintan said in an explanatory tone, "Your father and uncle fast-forward and rewind time but I can jump from one place to another," he paused and looked down, adjusting his sunglasses in the bright light, "as long as I have the coordinates that is. Your uncle provided that."

"Oh," I answered meekly and then began examining our surroundings. We were in a shallow gully, a lazy river flowed a little ways on, edged by the same rocky ground we were currently standing on. Rickety train tracks rose above the river, the wood old and worn. Across on the other shore there was a strange caped man tying up a struggling female superhero.

"Jetstream," I said taking a step towards them, though we were hopelessly separated by the river.

"Don't worry," Fintan's hand came down on my shoulder, I realized suddenly that he looked younger, the time-jump must have affected him, "We're not here to stop that, we need to find Secondhand before he finds your father. I'm sure you can pause long enough for us to apprehend him once…"

"But I promised Will that we'd…" I started.

"I know. The only way to help Jetstream is to make sure your father is safe. Ah-hah, look over there, I think your uncle's just arrived."

I dutifully looked to where he pointed, a few yards away, attention focused entirely on the opposite bank stood Secondhand. I winced at my uncle's poorly chosen costume. No wonder he'd never been especially famous. He was clad entirely in an odd mix of spandex and protective armor, all colored a hideous lime green. His logo was emblazoned on his chest in black, a clock with secondhand nearing the twelve. Fortunately there was no cloak to add to the mess, but he did wear a black full face mask.

"Pause," Fintan barked before my uncle could see us.

So I did, fully expecting it not to affect my uncle. Surprisingly, everything within the radius I desired paused, including my uncle, and my father who had suddenly appeared just as I slowed time. Fintan and I ran to where my uncle was, just about to attack my unsuspecting father from behind, "So how," I said between breaths as we reached him and pushed him to the ground, "do you resist it?" I asked as the red-headed agent cuffed my uncle's unwieldy arms.

He shrugged, "Natural ability."

"Oh," I answered.

Together we dragged him up the hill behind an abandoned, tireless car that had been long ago stripped of anything worth having. The trick of time, I would learn later, was to not change the natural flow. Being seen there, before my father had performed his task, could be detrimental and could create other inconsistencies. We collapsed behind the vehicle with our burden and I let go of my hold as Fintan gagged my uncle. He was right to do that, the minute time started again he was mumbling incoherently behind the cloth. I realized it was the second time in one day that I had helped to bring this man to justice. It made me feel vaguely heroic.