Raina appeared out of thin air, her hands immediately sinking into a deep puddle of dirty, foul-smelling water. What the hell...she thought, still fighting to get her bearings. She rolled over, forcing herself to sit on her tailbone even though the move caused her no small amount of pain. She wiped her hands on her jeans as the stabbing pain subsided to a dull throb. It was only then that Raina was able to take stock of her surroundings. Where am...

She had an answer to the question before her thoughts were able to complete it. Miami...I think. Little Havana, judging by that raging coffee smell...But how did I *get* here? Raina leaned her head back against a large piece of metal with a CLANG. The noise caught her attention, telling her that she was in an alleyway.

An older, Cuban-looking gentleman burst out of the door just opposite where Raina was sitting. The noise startled her, and she scrambled back from the man that she hoped wasn't about to try and attack her with the broom he currently had raised over his head. It took him a second to realize that the scene in front of him wasn't the one he was expecting. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Discúlpeme, señora. I thought was stupid cats again..." His voice trailed off when he stepped to the side and the light that flooded out from the hallway gave him a better look at the woman that was sitting in front of him. "Pérdon...you look hurt, miss? I call 911?"

"NO!" Raina blurted out, a little more loudly and forcefully. She caught her breath, calming herself down before she spoke again. "No 911. No ambulance."

The old man didn't seem to believe Raina, despite her plea. "You...you okay? You no hurt?"

Raina quickly took stock of her physical condition, surprised to find that she no longer ached the way she had only moments earlier. She used the dumpster to help herself up until she was standing. "I'm fine," she insisted. "No hurt."

"No hurt?" the man asked a second time. "You look..."

Raina was pretty sure that she had a good idea of how she looked. "I know," she agreed, "I look worse than I feel." Idly, Raina wished that she could find a way to shower and change into clean clothes...

"Dios mío!" the old man exclaimed, making the sign of the cross and gasping before loudly slamming the door closed.

Raina took two steps toward the door and tripped, bracing herself against the short staircase to keep from falling. It was then that she noticed the cleanness of her hands. She took a step back and discovered she was wearing heels. Raina stared at her shoes...only to discover the condition of what was attached to those heels. Her legs weren't just healed, they were clean. And covered by her favorite yellow dress.

She had gone from dying, to healed, to Miami...then back to 'normal' in what felt like less than a minute.

What in God's name is happening to me?!

#

Stephanie put her liquid eyeliner brush down and sighed. "C'mon grasshopper, focus," she whispered to herself. "You haven't even warmed up yet..."

"Still can't stop smiling, huh?"

Stephanie looked over at her chorus-mate and blushed. "Am I that obvious, Courtney?"

Courtney shook her head, chuckling as she pulled a sponge from her makeup case. "Girl...I don't think I've seen you without a smile on your face since the day we met."

Stephanie looked around, taking in her surroundings with a wistful sigh. "It's just...it's just good to be back, I guess."

"I thought you never sang in DC before this?" asked Courtney, confused.

"I haven't," Stephanie replied. "I took a year off from singing..."

"Really?" asked Courtney, her interest instantly piqued. "What for?"

Stephanie had to use all of her acting ability to keep from wincing; it was the one question she was dreading and she still hadn't come up with an answer she was happy with. It's not like I can tell anyone that *truth*, she thought. "I...went through some...personal stuff," Stephanie finally told Courtney. "It took me a while to get past it..." A loud crash interrupted any further conversation. Stephanie jumped up with a start. "What the hell what THAT?!" she exclaimed.

Courtney's gaze never moved from the dressing room mirror as she applied her eyeliner with a steady hand. "Must be the 'Phantom'," she commented, her voice dripping with mocking sarcasm. "Oooh, scary..."

"The Phantom?" asked Stephanie.

Courtney shrugged. "When I first got this gig I jumped at every little noise I heard coming from the theater. Some of the more 'experienced' women in the chorus decided to start messing with me. They said that I must have brought that 'Phantom of the Opera' with me when I started and that's why I was hearing things."

Stephanie swallowed hard. "Think there's anything to it? Do you think there might be a..."

Courtney's eyes went wide. "A *Phantom*?" She burst out laughing. "Oh, hell no!" It took a minute for Courtney to calm down enough to continue. "You must have been out of the game for longer than you're telling me," she exclaimed, alternating between chuckles and deep breaths as she tried to get the laughter out of her system. "Especially if you're willing to believe a cock-and-bull story like that!"

Stephanie fought to ignore the growing knot in her stomach. "Yeah," she agreed absently, "dumb blond, that's me."

Any further conversation was interrupted by the knock of the stage manager at their door. "Places for act one," he announced.

"Thank you, places," Stephanie and Courtney replied in unison. All thoughts of the 'Phantom' were set aside as the focus for both women swept forward to the opening strains of "La Traviata".

#

Jane had to try to keep her focus on moving forward and keeping up with Kate Beckett, who was moving at a speed that forced her to almost jog to match her quick pace. "Wow," she began, trying to keep the breathlessness out of her voice, "Richard Castle is a *wizard*. I can hardly believe it."

Beckett chuckled quietly. "Yeah, sometimes I can hardly believe it either."

"Were you *born* this way?" Jane asked Castle.

Beckett shook her head, answering for her fiancé. "We've only had our abilities for about three years or so."

The pronoun that Beckett used stopped Jane in her tracks. "*We*?! You're a wizard, too?!"

"No," Castle replied, shaking his head. "We all have different abilities."

"There's that we again..." Jane muttered.

Beckett smiled, having clearly heard every word. "We are the descendants of a group called the Guardians of Shangri La. Guardians have been protecting the world longer than even your...Nordic god friend."

Jane's eyes went wide. "How many of you are there?"

"Five," Castle replied as he opened the door to the medical lab.

Jane's eyes never left Beckett. She was far too busy trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing. "And what's your ability?"

"Kate?" Lanie broke into the conversation. "Is this the famous Doctor Foster that Phoenix was talking about?"

Beckett nodded. "She has hairline fractures in both wrists. Phoenix wanted us to bring her down so you could get her fixed up." When Jane's jaw dropped open in shock, Beckett waved the fingers on her right hand. "Hypersenses," she explained. "When I shook your hand It felt a little off, then when you showed the bracelet I noticed that both your wrists had the same slight tilt to them."

Jane shook her head in amazement. "Wow," she exclaimed.

Lanie had other priorities. "Doctor Foster," she asked politely, "would you mind allowing me to examine your wrists for myself?"

"Of course," Jane agreed. She held out her wrists, wincing from the discomfort of the movement.

Lanie let out a low whistle as she watched Jane. "That looks like it hurts."

"Apparently my expressions are accurately portraying my physical condition, then," Jane agreed with a half-hearted smile. Lanie matched that smile as she took Jane's hands in her own. Jane gasped quietly at the warm, gentle ripple of pressure that swept through her body with the contact. "What...what just happened?" she exclaimed.

"You did indeed have a hairline fracture in each wrist," Lanie replied. "Also an impressive collection of cuts, scrapes, and other contusions. And a concussion."

Jane raised an eyebrow at Lanie's careful choice of words. "I *had* these problems?"

Lanie's smile widened in response. "Try moving your wrists again."

Jane frowned at the command, but did as she was told...and her eyes widened when she realized that the movements were no longer causing her pain. "How did you do that?" she gasped out in amazement.

Lanie waved her hand and wiggled her fingers to begin her explanation. "My ability, as you would call it, is the power to accellerate cellular regeneration."

"You can *heal* people?" asked Jane.

"Well, I can't regerate limbs or manipulate anything on a genetic level, but other than that...pretty much, yeah."

Jane shook her head in amazement. Wow...

"It takes a little getting used to."

The group turned to face the woman who had just chimed in to their conversation. "Jen," Beckett greeted her friend warmly. "I didn't expect to see you down here today."

Jenny rubbed her very pregnant belly. "Time for my weekly checkup."

"Weekly?" Castle asked gleefully. "That means..."

"Yep," Jenny agreed with a smile. "Your little nephew should be making his big debut any day now." She then turned back to Jane. "I'm not a Guardian, Doctor Foster. My husband is."

Jane looked like she had gotten the wind knocked out of her. "How did you...?"

"Read your mind?" Jenny completed the question. "Technically, I didn't. But his daddy is the master telepath among this bunch, and apparently, this little guy is a chip off the old block. *He* read your mind."

Jane's eyes widened again as she stared at Jenny's belly and processed everything she was hearing. "*He* read my mind?" she repeated. "Wow..."

Jenny chuckled. "I would have thought someone who's been to Asgard would find stuff like this fairly ordinary..."

It quickly became Castle and Beckett's turn to have their eyes go wide. "You've been to *Asgard*?" Castle exclaimed.

Jane dodged the question, her focus exclusively on Jenny. "I've been studying the stars for so long that I gave up on ordinary a long time ago." She reached her hands toward Jenny, then stopped, silently asking the mother-to-be for permission. When Jenny gave her approval, Jane let her hands rest on Jenny's stomach. When the baby kicked into her hands, Jane's face widened into a broad, joyful smile. "Much more fun to just assume that the extraordinary is waiting around every corner."

#

Stephanie listened to the quiet clop of her feet against the theater's floorboards. The single lightbulb only lit up the pit and the first few rows of the darkened theater, and she swung around the pole, reveling in the silence and the high that she always felt after a great performance.

A loud clang echoed through the theater; the sound caused Stephanie to jump. "Who's that?" she called out into the darkness. Every hair was standing on end. "Courtney?" She tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat, praying that this was just some sort of rookie initiation prank...

No such luck. A second clang echoed through the theater, followed by the quiet tapping of feet running across the floor. Stephanie took a first cautious step away from the light, then a second, moving nervously toward the sound she was hearing. "Tony?" she asked, hoping against hope that it was just the stage manager looking to close up.

The tapping stopped. Stephanie stared into the darkness, hoping to at least see a shadow or some faint impression of who or what was shaking her to the very core of her being. Finally, seeing no other option, she closed her eyes, opening her mind to the other presence in the theater...

Stephanie gasped. Her eyes flew open, and she staggered back under the complicated weight of the thoughts that were running through her mind. It was all she could do to keep standing. "I know you're not a ghost," she finally exclaimed in a shocked whisper, "but then who the hell are you?"