Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

Read on, oh faithful ones.

...

Chapter Seventeen

...

"Hippie? Time to wake up. Come on, we're almost there," Warren murmured in her ear.

Layla mumbled something in return, trying to turn over. She frowned when she realised that she wasn't in bed like she'd thought, and opened her eyes to realise Warren was carrying her. Actually bride-across-the-threshold carrying her.

"Are you okay to stand now?" he asked, his hold on her easing so she could stand on her feet.

They stood close to each other, her hands resting on his arms and Warren's hands resting on her hips to help her keep upright.

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry, what happened?" Layla asked, still feeling out of sorts.

"You fell asleep on the bus and I couldn't wake you. The driver was a prick and wouldn't wait until I could get you up, so I had to carry you. You really exhausted yourself with that tree, didn't you, hippie?"

"Sorry," she said, feeling guilty. "I know I'm not the lightest person to carry around."

"It's fine. And you weren't that heavy; who said you were heavy to carry around?" he asked, realising the answer the moment he'd asked the question. "Stronghold? The jerk with super strength? Oh, I'm going to beat him to a bloody pulp tomorrow."

"Don't do that," Layla said, shaking her head. "Not yet, at least."

Warren looked at her in surprise, wondering what she meant.

"You know the essay on the villain article we had to write for English? Ethan and Zach have a similar one about villain's sidekicks. I want to see the results of the assignments."

"But no one gets their essay back; Principal Powers keeps them in her office, and everyone just gets a written result by their teacher," Warren replied, frowning briefly.

"Exactly. I want to create a diversion to get the files out of her office."

"And you want me to beat Stronghold to a pulp as that diversion?" he asked, his expression turning into a broad grin. "I'm in."

Layla grinned brightly in response, her cheeks brightening when she realised just how close they were standing. Warren came to the same realisation a moment later, his hands caressing her hips gently. Not giving herself time to think or doubt her next actions, she kissed Warren eagerly, her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her hotly, his hands immediately tightening on her hips, pulling her closer. Warren lifted her slightly so they didn't have to crane their necks, and she pulled away after a moment, her eyes bright.

"This way," she murmured, her feet on the ground in a second, and she led him to the side of her Great Aunt's house.

Warren frowned briefly, but then Layla was kissing him again, her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her once more. Leaning against the side of the house, Warren could hold her easier, his lips burning against hers, and his hands scorching on her hips. There was a ripple beneath her skin, a secret on her lips, and vines circled their feet. Opening his eyes briefly, he saw Layla watching him, her eyes green and bright. She bit at his bottom lip, her tongue flicking against his. She closed her eyes and he followed suit.

A ringing sound made them pull away, and Layla took her phone out to see that her Great Aunt was calling.

"Come on, I'd better get inside," she murmured, kissing him once more before taking his hand and leading him to the porch.

Layla rang the doorbell when she realised that the door was locked and chained. The door opened almost immediately, her Great Aunt glaring at them.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

"I started my job today, and my shift finished at 8pm. Warren walked me home to make sure I'd be safe," Layla replied calmly.

"I can see that," Greta said sarcastically, seeing that his lip was swollen, but she doubted it was to keep Layla 'safe'.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Warren. Thank you for walking me home," she said, kissing his cheek.

He nodded briefly, then looked to her Great Aunt. "Good night, ma'am," Warren said, leaving before he lost control of the fire building inside of his body.

The door slammed behind him, and Warren growled softly when he heard Greta yelling at Layla. Deciding that he couldn't leave just yet, he headed to the side of the house where he and Layla had just made out. It was the same side that she'd made a tree to get into her room. Creating a small ball of fire, Warren used the heat from it to push himself into the air. It wasn't as stable as Will's flight, or a jet pack, but closer to an explosion lifting and catapulting someone into the air. The hot gust of wind and flames pushed him high enough so that he could grab hold of the protruding roof and pull himself up onto the tiles. Below him, the fire died and disappeared entirely.

"I'm going to bed now, unless you have a problem with that too!" Layla called, closing her bedroom door, a vine wrapping around the handle.

Her entire body was shaking in rage and other emotions, and she barely kept control of the vines beneath her skin. They whispered in her mind, telling her that it wouldn't take long to push her Great Aunt down the stairs. Her bedroom window opened, but before she had time to do anything, Warren was in her room, his arms wrapping around her body. At his contact, the vines quietened down almost immediately, her body thrumming with a very different emotion.

"Are you okay?" Warren whispered in her ear, pulling back to look at her intently.

Layla nodded briefly, sighing as she moved closer into his embrace. "Stay with me?" she asked quietly.

"Of course. Just let me text Mum so she doesn't freak out again," he muttered.

When she nodded in response, Warren pulled out his phone, flipping it open to do as he'd said. Texting with one arm wrapped around Layla's body was a feat in itself, but he managed to do so, and turned it to silent so his mother's reply wouldn't give them away. He held back a groan of embarrassment when he saw that she'd told him to be safe and use a condom. Slipping his phone into his pocket again, he wrapped his arms around Layla properly.

"Come on, hippie. Let's get you to bed," Warren murmured in her ear.

She pulled away and nodded, leading him to her bed. As they'd done at his home, Layla stripped down to a singlet and underwear, getting beneath her sheet, while Warren stayed in his briefs, moving to sleep on top of the sheet beside her. Layla faced him when she felt the mattress dip, snuggling up against his chest. Warren pressed a kiss to her forehead, wrapping his arm around herbody as they drifted off to sleep.

...

Waking up in Warren's arms, Layla smiled against his shoulder, snuggling her body against his.

"You'd better stop that, hippie, or we won't be going to school," Warren chuckled against her neck, his lips hot against her skin.

"Confident, aren't you?" she murmured, turning around in his arms to look at him.

"With you in my arms, why wouldn't I be?"

Laughing softly, she shook her head at him, moving to get off the bed. "Come on, we've got to get to Sky High. And you've got to get out before my Great Aunt sees you. You want me to pack something for lunch for you?" Layla asked as she stuffed a few books and her pencil case into her bag.

"You mean that rabbit food you eat?" Warren said with a snort. "I'll buy my lunch, thanks anyway," he added, sitting up.

He pulled his pants on, smirking when he saw Layla staring at his chest.

"Like what you see, hippie?" Warren asked, laughing when she went bright red.

Grabbing her clothes for the day, Layla hurried out of the room without a word. Chuckling, Warren pulled his shirt over his head and shrugged his jacket on. Hearing footsteps approaching the room, he frowned. The shower was running, so that meant Layla was still in the bathroom. Making a quick decision, Warren stepped into Layla's wardrobe, carefully closing the door behind him. He couldn't risk going out the window and getting stuck on the roof, and there was no way in hell he was going to hide under Layla's bed.

The slats in the wardrobe doors allowed him to see in her room still, and some part of him was hoping that Layla had just forgotten something. The other part of him doubted that he'd be able to control himself if it was her Great Aunt, especially after the shouting match she and Layla had had the night before.

Greta stepped into Layla's room quietly, listening intently for the shower. She made her way over to the jewellery box sitting on the dresser, remembering a set of pearl earrings that had been there last time she'd stolen something. They were small pearls, but they were still pearls, and the girl had no right owning things like that. The brooch Greta had taken had been adored by all of her friends, although Frieda had still seemed suspicious about its sudden appearance. Especially after those stupid questions the girl had asked, all but accusing her of stealing the stupid thing! She had, of course, but that didn't mean a thing. She'd never had things like this when she was the girl's age, so why shouldn't she take them? Not having things builds character, after all.

"Where are you?" Greta murmured, picking through the mess of earring hooks and sharp studs.

The house seemed much quieter, and that set alarm bells off in Greta's mind, making her realise that Layla was probably out of the shower. She left the room quickly, figuring that she'd come back for the pearls later. It was a shame, because she'd wanted to wear them to her bridge game this morning.

Layla walked into her room, oblivious to what had occurred moments ago in her room. She rubbed at her wet hair with her towel quickly, wondering where Warren had gone. Walking to the window, she looked outside only to find that he wasn't there. A creak behind her made her spin around quickly, eyes wide.

"Don't do that!" she hissed at Warren.

"Your Great Aunt was just in here. She was going through your jewellery box. I don't think she took anything," Warren replied.

Frowning, Layla went to her dresser, looking at the jewellery quickly, trying to determine whether it was all there or not. Seeing that everything was still in her possession, she grinned slightly. The secret compartment had worked. The jewellery box was wooden, and it had only taken a small amount of power to fashion a small drawer in the bottom. She'd placed the expensive items in there, and another bit of power had the drawer sealing itself into the wood without a trace. Without her power, no one would be able to open it.

"Everything still there?" Warren asked quietly.

She nodded in response, smiling at him. "It's safe. Come on, let's get you out of here before my Great Aunt tries to come in again."

Warren had one leg in and out of the window when they heard the front door slam. Pulling him inside quickly, Layla winced as they both fell back and he landed on her body. Moments later, she heard her Great Aunt's car pulling out of the driveway. Standing up, Layla brushed herself off and grinned at Warren.

"Come on, we'd better get going before we're late," she said, taking his hand and leading him out of the room.

Once she had packed lunch, Layla and Warren left for the bus. The driver raised his eyebrows on seeing them together, but shut the door behind them without a word. Warren guided her to the back seat, muttering about nosy drivers.

...

Greta hummed to herself as she headed up to Layla's room. The hammer was heavy in her hand, but she held it firmly so it wouldn't slip. There was the only way to get what she wanted, and she'd never been one to let personal feelings - or relatives - get in the way.

Opening the door, she was silent as she slipped into the room, the hammer raised high. It was over in a moment, the heavy metal head falling and smashing the fragile structure with ease.

Layla's wooden jewellery box lay in pieces, and Greta picked up the pearl earrings. Seeing that there were other things of value in the pieces of wood, she grabbed those too. She smiled to herself, leaving the room, humming once more.

The closest pawn shop was only a few minutes away, but she drove across town to the seediest and most cheap looking shop in Maxville.

The store owner bought the items for a much cheaper price than they were worth, but the money didn't matter to Greta. Layla had tried to kill her, she knew she had, despite the overwhelming evidence attesting to her innocence. She would pay.

...

Layla glanced at her watch. She had ten minutes before she had to get to work. Beside her, Craig frowned slightly. She was posing as his daughter, and they were about to put in the lotto numbers. Layla had already filled in the sheet and put it in his wallet, making sure he wouldn't see the numbers.

He really didn't know why she was being so paranoid, it wasn't like she was really going to win anything. Still, he'd promised to put the numbers in if she beat him at Save the Citizen, so here they were.

"Can I help you?" the news agency man drawled, barely glancing up from his paper.

"I'd like to put these lotto numbers in, please," Craig replied, pulling his wallet out from his back pocket.

He opened it, frowning when he didn't see the slip of paper in his wallet.

"Mum put in the back pocket, Daddy," Layla said, giggling at him.

"Oh, right," he muttered quickly, finding the paper and handing it to the guy behind the counter.

The man didn't seem interested in their interaction, and processed the paper quickly, asking for the payment.

Craig handed over the notes, took the change, and then left with Layla. Once they were outside and out of the line of sight of non-supers, Craig changed back to his normal form, and adjusted his checkered shirt before handing Layla the lotto ticket.

"Did he see the numbers?" Warren asked, walking over to them.

"No, I didn't. Thanks for acting like I'm not even here," Craig muttered, rolling his eyes. "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow at school, okay Layla?"

"Sure. Thanks, Craig. I'll sit with you and the guys at lunch, okay?" she said sweetly.

He nodded in response, leaving without a word to Warren.

"Why are you going to sit with him tomorrow?"

"Because I don't want to make him feel as if I just used him. Besides, we agreed that he could be a permanent marker, and I want to collect all of the pretty colours for myself," Layla said, laughing.

"The pretty colours?" Warren echoed, shaking his head at her. "What colour am I meant to be then?"

"Red, of course. What other colour would you be?"

"Black?"

"Oh, no, that's definitely my colour," she said with a sour laugh. "Come on, I've got five minutes to get to the Mayor's office. Want to walk me to work?"

Warren grinned at her and put an arm around her waist. "Sure, and I'll walk you home too. Come on, or you're going to be late."

Layla nodded, and they walked down to the Mayor's office quickly.

...

"So how are you going with The Monster, Layla?"

"Fine, thank you, Stephanie," she replied as she entered the staff area.

"Oh, that's really great, you know. You're the fourth person to try and get through it," Stephanie said with a laugh that wasn't from any amusement that Layla perceived. "Well, good luck," she said sweetly, returning to her desk.

Layla frowned slightly, having a bad feeling about the fake tone in her voice. She headed to where the small windowless office was that held The Monster. As she approached, she could see that the chair that had been placed in front of the door had been moved. Layla quickened her pace without trying to look as though she was rushing, and on reaching the small office, she stilled, frozen in front of the windowed door. Inside the room, papers were strewn about everywhere, as if a sudden force from the overhead ceiling fan had managed to displace every single sheet.

"Oh, Layla, I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would be as malicious as this," Ms. Peace said behind her, resting her hand on Layla's shoulder gently.

Layla could feel a sensation in her head - different to Ms. Peace's itching compulsions - and she gathered that someone in the office was trying to read her thoughts or emotions. She took a deep breath, working on calming herself down.

"It's fine, Ms. Peace. I didn't put anything on the papers to keep them down, so it's essentially my fault," she said, giving her the best shit-eating grin she could manage.

"Are you sure? I doubt the Mayor would condone this sort of sabotage and backstabbing among his staff," she replied, her voice raising as she looked at her colleagues.

"I'm sure. Thank you, Ms. Peace. I suppose I'd better start again," Layla said, opening the door.

She didn't look overly convinced, but Ms. Peace nodded and returned to her desk, glaring at Stephanie along the way. The chair that had been outside of the office was now sitting inside and innocent by the doorframe, her tray still on top of the cushion.

Sighing at the mess that was around her, Layla began to pick up the papers and resort them into piles.

...

On Friday morning, Layla sat in English for Heroes, trying not to tap out her nerves about her essay grade. She would not allow herself to think of the second essay that was sitting in her bag, the one that had a detailed account of the Incredible Genius' reasons for kidnapping the Dean of the University of Maxville, and why he'd failed in getting what he wanted.

The teacher walked along the aisles, handing out small grade cards, smiling at students here and there.

Looking at her grade card, Layla wasn't surprised to see that she had failed. She'd received a mark of 11 out of 50. The notes read that her argument was sound, yet she had answered the question completely wrong, and therefore, couldn't pass.

She smiled to herself, and listened as the teacher outlined some general responses to the assignment that had been wrong. Not all of the students had come to Layla's conclusion, and had passed the assignment without a qualm. Some of these students were simply too dense to realise that they were being tested, and did no more and no less than what was required to pass. A few others needed to pass in order to feel good about themselves, and the last of the group had simply seen the assignment as nothing more than an English assignment that they needed to pass, and done exactly that.

Layla did notice that a very small number had failed along with her as well. Probably four or five out of the entire class of thirty students, if their expressions were anything to go by. The teacher called out six names - Layla's included - in order to give them a new assignment to make up the grade. This assignment was one about how good Heroes were, rather than villains, making it more than obvious that the assignments were geared towards determining a student's place on the hero-villain line. After writing down the essay question, Layla quickly wrote down the other five names, planning on checking Ethan's Save the Citizen book to see if they'd requested to fight against her and Warren. At least she definitely knew some people who might be permanent markers.

...

Zach couldn't help but frown as he watched Warren and Layla interact over lunch, which was difficult considering they were sitting at different tables. Layla had gone to sit with Craig, Larry, Adam, and a few of their friends today, but Warren didn't seem to mind as much this time around. As they weren't talking, it was difficult for him to pinpoint what was wrong, but he could tell that there wassomething in their postures and eyes that just didn't seem right. He hadn't been able to eat his lunch yet, sensing that something was about to happen.

He was right, and within minutes of sitting down at lunch (his back facing Magenta and Will, both of whom seemed to think that saliva was an essential staple in their diet), Warren stood up without a word of warning. Over at her other table, Layla simply took a bite from one of her carrot sticks, acting as if nothing was out of the norm.

"Hey, what's going on?" Ethan asked, looking up at Warren with a frown.

Zach nudged his friend quickly, shutting him up, and ignoring Ethan's confused look. Warren didn't reply, leaving them and walking straight towards Will and Magenta. The cafeteria went silent as he did so, the students eager for a fight.

Will stood up when he realised that Warren was heading towards him, staring for a moment, as if he couldn't quite believe why his former best friend looked so murderous. Without giving so much as a warning, Warren took a swing. Will, still standing there stupidly, was consequently punched in the jaw, his neck cracking with the motion.

Warren's arms lit up, and Will's eyes widened. He dodged the fireball that was sent at him, trying to move towards Warren to hit him back and defend himself.

"Why are you doing this?" Will asked.

"Why? You're asking me why, Stronghold?" Warren asked incredulously. "You cheated on Layla, you little prick,that's why."

Will didn't reply, but his cheeks tinged brightly. Around them, a group had gathered, and were watching intently. Will took a swing at Warren, but he dodged him, faster and lighter on his feet than anyone would have guessed possible. His arms lit up once more, and the heat was incredible, but Will readied himself to land a punch. He fought past the heat, and his fist connected hard against Warren's chest. Flying through the air, Warren passed through the very same place that he had the year before. This year, however, Will was in control of his power, and hit far harder than he had then. Warren went through Coach Boomer's office, flew through Mr. Medulla's office lab, heard Mr. Boy's squeak of fear echoing from his office, and then came to a stop all the way down at Principal Powers' office.

For a moment the office was filled with silence as Principal Powers stared down at Warren's fallen form. Cheering from the cafeteria could be heard, and her lips thinned slightly. She turned into a comet and shot through the fractured walls to the cafeteria. The cheering and noise died down when she arrived and landed in her human form.

"Mr. Stronghold, come with me this instant," Principal Powers said sternly.

Will pulled away from Magenta reluctantly, his grin fading on seeing the expression on the Principal's face.

"Warren Peace was the one who started it, Principal Powers," Magenta said quickly.

"That was no reason for Mr. Stronghold to end it. Now, Mr. Stronghold," she said sternly, indicating to the cafeteria doors.

Nodding, Will left with Principal Powers quickly. The noise returned to the cafeteria soon after they had left, the mess cleared up almost immediately.

"Well, that was an interesting lunchtime show," Ethan said, turning to sit down again.

"Yeah, although, I'm surprised Warren let himself get punched like that," Zach murmured, sitting next to his friend.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.

"He could have easily dodged Will's hit, but he took it. I'm telling you, it was like he wanted to be hit, dude."

"Hey, where's Layla?"

Zach frowned when he realised that Layla was nowhere to be seen.

When Warren had first punched Will, Layla had slipped out of the cafeteria. She'd run straight up to Principal Powers' office, and within a minute or two, the door was opened by Warren. He grinned at her, his arms already full of files. She checked that the hallway was clear and stepped inside.

"Is that all of them?" she asked, opening her school bag.

"Yeah, it's all of the files from her filing cabinet. Quick, before she comes back," he said.

Layla nodded, turning to leave. Then she looked at him with a grin. "How'd it feel, punching him?"

"Fucking fantastic," Warren said, grinning broadly.

With a small laugh, Layla hurried away, her bag bulging. Mere seconds after she'd turned the corner, Principal Powers came into view with Will.

"You weren't trying to escape punishment, were you, Mr. Peace?"

"No, ma'am, or else I would have left the moment you did," Warren replied, trying not to grin.

Her lips twitched slightly, but she tampered the response down and glared at both of them.

"A year after your last fight and you've destroyed the cafeteria again? Was it some reunion thing that no one informed me about?" Principal Powers asked, looking between them.

They were both silent, and with a heavy sigh, she led them to the Detention Room.

...

Warren avoided the gaze of his mother. He already knew what he would see, since he'd already seen it a year ago. Disappointment, disgust, and a look conveying everything she wasn't saying: that he was his father's son, that she thought she'd raised him better, that she blamed herself, and that he should know better.

Last year, he'd felt every piece of that Look, and had felt properly ashamed of what he'd done and the pain he'd caused his mother. This year, things had changed. He did feel a slight twinge of guilt that he'd put his mother through this again, but he couldn't bring himself to regret what he'd done. He'd done it for two reasons, one to hit Will, and the second to get the files from Principal Powers' office. Both of those reasons were because of Layla, and in regards to her, Warren simply couldn't bring himself to be sorry. He avoided his mother's gaze because he was sure that she would see his lack of remorse in an instant.

"You're grounded for a week, Warren. Apart from school, work, and escorting Layla to her house, you're not to leave. That means no staying over at her home for the night," she added.

Warren nodded briefly, his gaze still on the table in front of him.

"Please, just go to your room. I can't bring myself to look at you right now," she said, finishing her monologue with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Mum. I couldn't help myself though; he cheated on Layla, and he's going around sucking face with Magenta and making everyone sick. I had more people congratulate me on decking him today than I can count. I'm not saying that it's a good thing, of course, but I'm saying that I can't be sorry for what I did. I defended her, and I think that's good, even if I did go about it the wrong way. But really, I don't think it would have had the same impact if I wrote Stronghold a note."

She laughed, unable to help herself at the thought of her son writing someone a sternly-worded note to defend Layla's honour. The laughter also relieved some of the tension she'd been feeling, and she sighed again, finally able to look at her son.

"Did Layla get home all right after you finished work?"

"Yes, Mum, she got to her Great Aunt's house fine."

There was something in his tone that made her frown, and she prompted him to continue.

"Her Great Aunt stole her mother's jewellery. She went right ahead and broke the wooden box it was kept in, and didn't even try to hide the evidence or anything. Layla can't find the jewellery, and with the extra cash her Great Aunt was waving around, she thinks she might have sold her mother's things."

"That's awful. Were the items expensive?"

"Most were of sentimental value, but some could've fetched a hefty price tag, apparently. Not really into jewellery myself, so I can't tell, but I know there were a pair of pearl earrings, and a white gold chain necklace."

"What's Layla planning on doing? She has the day off work tomorrow, is she going to look around for them?"

Warren shook his head briefly. "No, I don't think so. She'd be too upset to find them for sale in some store when they're all that her mother left to her."

Ms. Peace frowned, but decided that it probably would be overly emotional to try and find stolen jewellery items of that sort of sentimental value. Imagine if she didn't find them at all, or imagine if she did? What would she do then? Demand that they be returned? It wasn't likely that the store owner would just hand them over to her.

"I'm beat, I'm going to bed now. Night, Mum," Warren said, kissing the top of her head as he walked past.

"Night," she called.

She'd become so distracted by Layla's misfortune that she forgot she was disappointed in Warren for using his fists first. Although, she'd be lying if she said that she didn't agree with his reasoning in some part of her mind. Of course, she would never admit that out loud. She had no desire to see her son go through life thinking that this sort of behaviour was appropriate. Sighing to herself, she went to her bedroom to sleep, silently hoping that she'd raised Warren right.

...

End of the seventeenth chapter.

Thank you for reading; I hope you liked it!