Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

The Heavens and Earth rose out of Chaos.
John Milton - A Paradise Lost.

Read on, oh faithful ones.

...

Chapter Fifteen

...

"Hello?" Layla called out politely. "I've brought some friends over to study," she added, not knowing what state her Great Aunt would be in.

"That's nice, isn't it, Greta?" Frieda asked as they came out of the kitchen.

Greta didn't look overly pleased, her eyes narrowing when she saw Warren. Beside her, Frieda brightened up considerably, and hurried over to take his arm, leading him to the dining room.

Zach bit his knuckles in an attempt to muffle his laugh, but became serious when he passed Layla's Great Aunt, quickly taking his hat off at her brief glare.

"Nice to see you again, ma'am," he said, hurrying past her.

"Hello, Mrs. Auden. It's wonderful to see you again, and may I say what a lovely house you have?" Ethan gushed nervously, almost running past when he saw the unimpressed look on the woman's face.

"I am sorry for bringing them all over unannounced like this, but it wasn't working out at Warren's house, and they've all been asking to see where I live now, so I thought it would be like hitting two birds with one stone... Which is kind of an awful saying if you think about it, I mean, really, who would want to hurt birds in that way?"

"Stop your rambling, girl, and go already," Greta growled, glaring at her.

Layla hung her head and passed her Great Aunt to go to the dining room, but there was an air of smug satisfaction to her that made Greta's fist clench. She turned to see Frieda standing behind her, looking appalled at the way she'd spoken to Layla.

"Really, Greta! Was that necessary? She was apologising for having friends over to study, for goodness sakes! They're not in there partying, you know."

Greta didn't reply, instead turning and going back into the kitchen. Her leaving didn't stop Frieda as it usually did, and her friend followed her into the kitchen, telling her just how wonderful Layla was, how caring she was, and how she was wrong to treat her only living relative in that manner.

"She called me cutie again," Warren muttered at Layla, glowering.

Zach chuckled, not bothering to muffle it this time. "She called you cutie? Aww, aren't you such a cute widdle ... Hey, don't do that! We're inside!" he said in alarm when Warren's fist lit up.

"Shut up then."

Nodding quickly, Zach sighed in relief when the flame disappeared.

"I'll make it up to you later," Layla said, smiling at Warren.

"How are you going to make it up to him?" Ethan asked, frowning.

Warren thought of waking up with Layla in his arms, the kisses she gave him, her hand in his...

"It's a surprise," she replied, and there was a faint tinge on her cheeks, making him wonder if she'd had the same thoughts.

"Okay... Do you think your Great Aunt would get us drinks? Those cookies made me thirsty," Ethan muttered.

"I don't think she would. I'll get them though; are you all okay with lemonade?"

They agreed quickly, and when Layla was out of the room, Zach turned to Warren. "All right, hot head, 'fess up. What's going on with you and Layla?"

"What?" Ethan asked, frowning in confusion.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed those looks they've been giving each other all day?" Zach muttered, shaking his head and looking back at Warren.

"No idea what you're talking about, glow worm," he replied, his voice even but his jaw clenched.

"Glow worm? What happened to glow stick?"

"I believe it was a way to degrade you," Ethan said. "Is there something going on between you and Layla?" he asked, both of them watching Warren intently.

"No, nothing."

"Okay, so you won't mind if I ask her out then?" Zach asked, standing and brushing off his shirt.

"Sit. The. Fuck. Down," Warren growled, his hands bursting into flames.

Zach just grinned and sat in his seat calmly. Moments later, Layla walked in, carrying four glasses, two held by vines. Setting them on the table, she frowned and looked between the three boys, who were all studying innocently.

"Why does the room smell like smoke?"

"I was proving a point," Zach replied, grinning brightly.

"Warren didn't agree," Ethan added in explanation, a grin twitching on his lips.

"Um, okay," she said, obviously not believing them. "Maybe next time, open a window before you start a debate," Layla said, walking past them to open the window. "What were you talking about anyway?"

There was a moment of hesitation from all of them, and Warren rolled his eyes at the sidekicks' inability to think of a suitable lie.

"We were talking about superheroes. Zach thinks that Catwoman would beat Poison Ivy, and I think he's an idiot," he said, adjusting in his seat slightly when Layla sat next to him.

"Really? You think Catwoman would beat Poison Ivy? Oh, you poor misguided boy," Layla said, shaking her head.

"No, I'm not! Poison Ivy doesn't fight, all she does is conjure plants and vines, and Catwoman does all those flips and things and she has the whip," Zach protested, his hands demonstrating his argument.

"Catwoman's already beaten Poison Ivy in comic-verse," Ethan pointed out. "And without her plants, Poison Ivy doesn't have any weapons other than her lethal kiss and the fact that she herself is poisonous."

Warren could immediately see the similarities between Poison Ivy and Layla, and briefly wondered what she'd look like in a tight green outfit. He ignored Zach's smirk, as if he knew what he was thinking.

"You really think Poison Ivy would win a fight in some warehouse that doesn't have plants? She'd be vulnerable and close to human then," Ethan added.

Layla was silent for a moment, frowning. "That's like saying she's not smart enough to take seeds, paper, or even pieces of bark with her."

"Uh, what?" Zach asked, confused.

"They're all natural things that she can manipulate, even if the paper's processed. And even her costume would probably have something natural woven into it. She would never leave herself completely unprotected and vulnerable like that."

Ethan briefly wondered if she was still talking about Poison Ivy.

"How would she carry any of that? It's not like her costume really has a place to put bark and paper!" Zach said.

"I'm not sure," Layla admitted, drawing on her notebook as she thought about it. "Well, okay, she'd lose against Catwoman in that particular scenario, but if they were outside, Poison Ivy would win hands down. Catwoman would be surrounded before she could move."

"What about her claws? Those things are sharp; she'd be able to cut through any plants Poison Ivy created!"

"I don't think you've ever seen just how thick some vines are, Zach," she replied, laughing. "And a lot of vines have sharp thorns that would hurt Catwoman even more. She'd be trapped and poisoned within seconds."

There was a knock at the door, and Frieda stepped inside a moment later, smiling at them.

"Just wanted to see how you were all doing," she said, then looked to Layla. "Your Great Aunt would like to see you in the kitchen if you're free, dear?"

"Oh, I'll be right there," Layla said, closing her books and standing. "Zach, Ethan, this is Frieda Olgestein, one of my Great Aunt's friends," she introduced.

She rested her hand on Warren's shoulder, squeezing gently as a way to show him that she would be all right on her own. He nodded briefly, but watched as she left nonetheless.

"So, Mrs. Olgestein, do you think Warren and Layla would be a cute couple?" Zach asked in a conversational tone.

Warren's pen snapped in half, and if he wasn't in the presence of a non-super, he would have roasted the glow worm alive. He figured that's what Zach was counting on, and tried to think of a way to get Frieda to leave so he could exact his revenge on the pale boy.

"Oh, do you think so? He's such a cutie," - Zach snorted at this, and Warren clenched his jaw, promising himself to make his revenge painful and so very slow - "and Layla's such a lovely dear. They'd be wonderful together!"

"And their babies would just be the cutest things ever!" Zach added, grinning as he looked over at him with his damn eyes twinkling.

"Excuse me," Warren muttered, leaving the room before he put his broken pen through his friend's twinkling eyes and set them alight.

Layla left the kitchen door open and stood on the side of the bench that was closest to the exit. If she needed to get out before doing something drastic, she wanted that getaway to be as close as possible.

"Mrs. Olgestein said you wanted to see me?" she asked with a brief smile.

Greta waited a moment, her eyes searching Layla's face for remorse, guilt, or a combination of the two. When she found neither, she sighed, and decided to get this over with before Frieda returned and tried to physically force her to say the words.

"It has been brought to my attention that you have not been extreme in your emotions nor completely unbearable to live with. You are still coping with your mother's death, and for that, I should have been more understanding towards your feelings and sensibilities," she ground out. "I was rash in contacting the boarding school, and you are welcome to stay here and continue to attend Sky High."

Layla's eyes widened briefly. Her Great Aunt's tone left something to be desired, but her words were unexpected, and she had to wonder exactly what sort of hold Frieda had over her.

"Thank you; I'll try to learn how to control my emotions better so I'm not unbearable to live with," Layla replied, trying to keep her voice pleasant.

Greta nodded in response, and taking that as her dismissal, Layla turned to leave.

"I know you poisoned me," Greta hissed, glaring at her back.

Layla's stride didn't falter, and she pretended that she didn't hear her Great Aunt's words. She frowned slightly on seeing Warren standing out in the hallway and made her way over to him.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, feeling the extreme body heat that he was exuding.

"They're ... they're in there ... and they're discussing how cute we'd be as a couple," Warren said, his teeth gritted.

"Did Mrs. Olgestein call you cutie again?" Layla asked sympathetically.

"That's not the point. They're talking about babies, and that's just so very wrong. I mean, we're not even... and we've never..." he groaned in frustration, trying to keep his emotions under control before he did something stupid like set the house on fire.

Smiling at the obvious war of his emotions, Layla took his arm. Warren watched as she moved his wrist cuff and wrapped her hand around the vine mark beneath it. Slowly, his emotions began to settle, and as she closed her eyes, he saw them turn a bright green colour.

"Oh, hello, what are you two doing out here?" Frieda asked, her smile broad and knowing.

"Just talking, Mrs. Olgestein. My Great Aunt is still in the kitchen, if you'd like to talk with her," Layla said, opening her brown eyes and smiling at the older woman.

She let go of Warren's wrist discreetly, moving to step in front of him so he could replace his cuff.

"How did it go? Did she talk to you?"

"Yes, she apologised, and I've promised to try and control my emotions," Layla said.

"You didn't need to promise that, dear. You're as pleasant as a plum," Frieda said, waving her hand at her. "You two go back to studying, and I'll leave you to it."

"So, are you two coming back inside, or do you still need more time? We can think of baby names if you're that busy," Zach said, grinning at them.

"I've got a better idea. Think of disastrous ways for Will and Magenta to break up," Layla said with a wicked grin.

"Like him dropping her while making out in midair? Thought of that last week. Made me laugh for a good ten minutes," he said brightly.

"Oh, really?" Layla asked, grinning at him. "And I thought you were only cruel to Warren."

"The cruelness is unlimited and not specific to a single person," Zach replied with a laugh, going back into the room.

"I told you he was a permanent marker," she muttered to Warren.

"Yeah, I know. Ethan'll take longer though," he replied. Then he frowned and looked down at her. "Did you really promise your Great Aunt that you'd control your emotions?"

"Yes. I figured Frieda would say something like that, and I know she's probably in there grilling her for information now. I didn't want to lie to her and be caught out."

"Sneaky, hippie, very sneaky."

"No, it's more self preservation than anything else. If my Great Aunt thinks I'm lying, she'll pack me away to boarding school before I can claim innocence."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Warren muttered, squeezing her hand gently.

"Neither would I," Layla replied with a brief smile. "Come on, let's go study. I want to get it over with and keep arguing Poison Ivy's case."

He chuckled and followed her into the dining room, his fingertips lingering on her skin.

...

"Remind me why we're here, hippie? Especially during the day?" Warren asked in a hiss, even as he stepped over the fence to follow her towards the house on Sycamore Street. "It's a weekday, and my mum knows I'm not working. If I get into trouble because of you, I'll ..."

"You'll what?" Layla asked, turning to look at him with an intrigued grin. When he didn't answer, she smirked knowingly. "I promise it'll be worth it. Come on, through here."

With a heavy sigh, Warren just gave into his earthly temptation in the form of a luscious redhead, and walked up to join her on the creaky porch.

"You have to stay close to me. I can only keep a small area solid," Layla said, looking down at the patch beneath her feet.

Following her gaze, Warren saw the brown rotting wood a few boards away, yet the ones beneath them had a healthier sheen to them and seemed far more solid than the others.

"You're not going to exhaust yourself and put us through the floor, are you?"

"It might be easier if you were closer," Layla replied.

He moved quickly, taking the three steps until he was almost pressed flush against her body.

"Better?" Warren asked, his voice low and hot against her skin.

She made a noise of agreement - although it was probably more a whimper of pleasure than anything else - and tried to remember how to breathe. Before she could figure out that trick, Warren's lips were on hers, his kiss burning and his tongue hot as he traced her lips. As Layla kissed him back she could feel her power growing within her body, the vines beneath her skin rippling in anticipation. When he went to touch her, Warren made himself pull away, watching her as his chest heaved and he licked his lips to taste her sweetness.

"Definitely worth it," he said, grinning.

Layla grinned back at him, despite knowing that she probably looked like a lovesick fool.

"Hippie? That wasn't there when we came in, was it?" Warren asked with a slight frown, looking at the small jungle that the front yard had become.

A car drove past, its headlights muted through the thick grass.

"It might be a good idea to leave it up. Come on, let's hurry before it gets too late," she said, taking his hand and leading him inside.

"You still haven't told me what we're doing here," he muttered.

"We're going to practice," Layla replied simply.

"Here, now? Why?"

"You promised to practice with me to see if we could combine our powers for Save the Citizen."

"Well, yeah, but I thought you meant during Save the Citizen! Not on someone else's property, not when we have the opportunity to fuck things up really bad!"

"If you're scared about being on someone else's property, then I guess we'd better go," she mocked.

"I never said I was scared, hippie," he retorted, glowering.

"Then prove it. One fire and plant combination, and we'll go. It'll be fine. Besides, this place will be knocked down when we make the secret sanctum here," Layla added with a grin.

"You think all of this rotting wood will be safe if I create a fire on top of it? If I make the fire and I'm concentrating on combining it with one of your plants then it's highly possible for this place to go up in flames, no matter if I'm inside or not."

"Okay. Wait here, I'll be right back," Layla said, stepping away from him.

Glancing down nervously, Warren was relieved to see that the floorboards didn't return to their normal rotting state beneath his feet. Layla didn't look as assured, and ran out of the house as fast as she could. As her distance increased, the floorboards began to creak and Warren's relief quickly faded. Layla returned in moments, the floor becoming solid once more.

"Don't do that again," he muttered, then frowned at the large rectangle in her hands. "What's that, and how's it meant to help?"

"The Stronghold Realty sign. It's one of their old metal ones, which should protect the wooden house from your fire... So long as you can keep it limited to this area," she added, placing the sign on the floor.

"Should be easy enough," he mused.

"All right," Layla said, looking at the metal sign with a small frown. Now that they were here, she found that she didn't exactly have a plan of how to attempt this thing.

"How about you make a plant in the middle, and I'll try to make a circle of flames around it?" Warren suggested, seeing that she was at a loss.

"Good idea," she agreed, quickly digging into her pocket and placing the retrieved seed down on the sign.

With a thought and short burst of power, the seed grew quickly, and soon a small shrub sat before them. Warren clicked a flame to life, flicking it towards the sign. The plant immediately burst into flame, and Layla hurried to change it to a seed before the fire could damage it permanently.

"Sorry, let's try again," he muttered, extinguishing the flames.

Nodding, Layla grew the shrub once more. Taking more care this time, Warren let the flame fall and land on the sign, his hands sculpting the circle in sync with his thoughts and brief burst of power. It worked for a moment, and they grinned at each other, but with that emotion, their concentration slipped, and the shrub caught on fire once more. Layla quickly returned it to a seed while Warren stopped the fire.

They both went still when they heard a car pull up outside. Putting her hand up to indicate for Warren to stay where he was, Layla hurried to the front area, the dirty glass and long grass obscuring her view. A brief thought had the grass swaying gently, and she paled slightly when she realised she recognised the car.

Hurrying back to the room, Layla didn't say anything, she simply grabbed the sign off the floor. Wiping off the soot from the fire, she quietly crept to the front door, throwing the sign on the grass, dirt and leaves covering it silently at her command. Closing and locking the door behind her, Layla made her way back to Warren, taking his hand and leading him to the back door. It was locked, but there was a hole to the side that was big enough for them to step through after a small power-fuelled adjustment.

Hearing the front door open, but no footsteps sounding, Layla figured it had to be Mrs. Stronghold. Warren was silent as they crouched past windows to get to the front once more, both keeping an eye and ear out for the flying superhero as they stepped over the picket fence silently.

Luck - and the public transport system - was on their side, and the bus to Layla's Great Aunt's house arrived on time, unsuspectingly taking them away from the scene of their crime.

"That was close," Layla breathed, but she was grinning rather than sounding remorseful or worried.

Warren grinned back at her, his adrenaline still coursing through him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. Layla rested against him, listening to the sound of his heart beating in time with her own.

...

Josie parked her car on the kerb, frowning slightly as she looked up at the old wooden structure beside her. The fence had been kicked in and vandalised in places, and the garden was so overgrown that it almost blocked the entire view of the house.

"I was sure I asked Steve to organise the gardener," she muttered to herself, getting out of the car and locking it behind her.

She checked her reflection quickly, discreetly ensuring that she had her glasses on and her secret identity was safe. With that done, Josie continued muttering about Steve's incompetence as she opened the no-longer-white picket gate, the hinges protesting with a loud squeak, and made her way down the small path to the rotting house.

"Ask for one simple thing... Should know better than to ask him, the man can't even organise dinner when I'm in Rome with the Ambassador!"

Josie stepped up onto the porch carefully, looking around her to ensure she was alone. When she was certain that she was, Josie floated up into the air slightly. The house really was rotted through and a hazard, but the Mayor refused to tear it down without concrete proof of this fact. Without her feet touching the floorboards, she was at less of a risk to make the whole thing come crumbling down around her.

That would be enough proof for you, wouldn't it Mr. Mayor? she thought, rolling her eyes. Okay, she might have been harbouring a few bad feelings over his comment about her dinner the other night. It had been a brilliant pasta dish, she was sure of it! The Mayor just didn't know good food when he ate it!

Opening the front door, Josie made her way through the house, snapping photos of the rotting floors, hole-ridden doors, and vandalised walls. The whole house smelled of smoke, and she kept one hand covering her nose and mouth to filter the putrid smell. Staying outside by the door, she only took one photo of the bathroom, the smell permeating from inside making her feel ill. Josie refused to look at the photo until she'd left. If it was bad enough, she might make it the first picture the Mayor would see.

Leaving the house, Josie landed on the ground gently, shielding her eyes from a bright reflection. Thinking it to be her car, she soon realised that it was too close to be that, and scanned her surroundings to find the source. Seeing a large piece of metal nearby, she lifted it gingerly, only to find that it was the Stronghold Real Estate sign for the house. It did have Steve's number, and as it was metal, it must have been years old. Why, they hadn't used metal signs since Will was in junior high! Lifting the sign carefully, Josie dusted off the dirt and leaves that had gathered. She stopped what she was doing, frowning suddenly.

"If this has been here long enough to get all of this dirt on it, then how did that person know to ring Steve?" she muttered, looking at her blackened hand.

Remembering how windy it had been a few nights ago when a summer storm hit Maxville (really, with all of the weather-powered supers out there, you think they'd be able to control something as simple as a storm), Josie put it down to nature, and thought no more of it. The wind had been enough to topple Will's old swing set in their backyard, so a simple sign would have been no trouble at all.

Humming to herself, she propped the sign against the fence and put a sticker across the front reading "under contract". With that all done, Josie brushed off her hands and drove home, certain that she and Steve would win the Realtor Sales Award this year.

...

End of the fifteenth chapter.

Thank you for reading; I hope you liked it!