Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

Read on, oh faithful ones...

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Chapter Twenty-One

...

"Before you tell me why you're looking like the cat who got the cream, please tell me you have some sort of caffeinated beverage in your bag," Warren muttered, flopping onto the bus seat beside her, closing his eyes against the glare of the sun.

"I made hot chocolate to have with breakfast before I realised I was running late," Layla said, offering him the thermos she was holding.

"Better than nothing. Thanks, hippie," he said briefly, waiting until the driver had pulled over at the next bus stop before pouring a small amount into the lid.

While the driver was getting better, and could now drive without making them feel as though they were on the world's bumpiest roller coaster, there were still times when he relapsed and hit a pothole. Warren still maintained he did it on purpose, just so the students wouldn't get placated.

When he finished drinking the hot chocolate in the lid, Warren handed it back. He frowned slightly, seeing that she was practically bouncing in her seat.

"What the hell was in your hot chocolate, hippie?" he muttered, planning on closing his eyes until they landed at Sky High.

Warren was surprised when he felt Layla sidle up to him, her body pressing against his in ways that warmed him more than the hot chocolate ever could. Well, if she wanted to make out, who was he to deny her?

"We won," Layla whispered.

Okay, no making out then... Wait, won? Won what?

Opening his eyes, he looked at her in confusion. Layla's grin just seemed to get even bigger, and it took Warren a moment to realise exactly what they'd entered in to win in the first place.

"You mean... The numbers?" he asked, his jaw hanging open in shock.

Layla nodded, bouncing in the seat again, her excitement almost vibrating out of her in waves.

"What... How... When... How much?" Warren faltered, trying to decide on what he wanted to know the most.

"Last weekend. Second division. $91,010," she murmured, grinning.

The bus dropped off the edge of the freeway - neither of them had heard the exhausts turn to the rocket-fuelled ones - and they both yelped in surprise. Warren overcame his surprise first and pulled her close to him, his mouth at her ear.

"Tell me," he said, his arm wrapped around her waist.

"We missed the division one prize by one number. We won the second division. They're looking for the winner, so we'll need to hand in the ticket to claim the money," she added. "Ninety-one thousand and ten dollars. We won, Warren," Layla said, grinning at him again.

Warren grinned back at her, pulling Layla to him and kissing her intently. When he pulled away, both of their lips were swollen, and neither one could stop grinning.

...

"So how much did you win?" Craig asked with a grin as he looked down at Layla from his taller carbon copy.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Layla replied with a broad grin.

Her grin slipped when he chuckled and looked away from her. She had no idea how she could stop Craig from knowing how much she and Warren had won, nor how she could keep him from talking about it. If she threatened him, it could come back to bite her, especially in the middle of a non-super store.

Craig handed the lottery slip to the young woman behind the counter, giving her a broad grin. "I'd like to check the results for this, thanks."

Suddenly, Craig's phone started to ring, a loud noise that no one could ignore. He reddened briefly and hurried to answer it. He walked away quickly, indicating to Layla to deal with the lottery ticket.

Relieved, and hurrying to hide the feeling, Layla stepped forward and smiled at the cashier, as if indulging the request of a scatter-brained father. She received a brief grin in return, and then the machine made a loud beeping noise. Layla quickly looked to see where Craig was. He'd left to stand just outside of the store, his signal reception too low to hear the caller properly. Craig was engrossed in the phone call, and didn't seem to hear the loud noise.

"Oh, wow. Your dad just got rich," the cashier said, her eyes wide. "Congratulations... Uh, you're gonna have to collect this at the lottery claim centre; it's way too big a prize for us to give out, y'know," she added.

"Wow; I'll tell him right away. Thank you so much!" Layla gushed, taking the ticket back.

"Is your dad single?" the cashier asked, grinning at her.

"Happily married. Thanks for asking," Layla said, wondering whether she was serious or joking.

She left before the woman attempted to say anything else, going outside to where Craig had left to get a better signal.

"Win anything?" he asked, pushing off the wall and adjusting his cap.

"Not a thing," Layla replied, shaking her head.

"Ah well. Maybe next time. Y'know, when you're actually legally allowed to gamble," Craig said, chuckling.

"Maybe. Thanks for doing this for me, Craig. Mum used to play those numbers, and I guess I wanted something as a reminder of her..."

Craig nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Well, I've got to get to work now. I'll see you tomorrow at school?"

"Yeah, sure. Have a good one," Craig called, taking her opening and leaving quickly.

Layla left for work, intent on arriving at the Mayor's office early in order to text Warren and let him know not to shave for a few days. They'd go to the claim centre that weekend before his shift at The Paper Lantern.

...

"All right, hot head, flower girl. Heroes or villains, and who do you choose?" Boomer asked, looking down at Layla and Warren from his seat high in the gallery.

The days had passed quickly, and Friday was almost over. Layla had been running late that morning, forgot that she'd organised a study session at Zach's house, and after school, she'd have to go back to her Great Aunt's house in order to get her assignments to work on. She was glad it was a Friday, and just wanted the day to be over as soon as possible. Even the knowledge of playing Save the Citizen later that afternoon hadn't made the day go by any faster.

"Heroes. I choose Wendy Walker," Layla called.

"I pick Ethan Damsale," Warren said, smirking briefly.

There was a rumble of noise through the crowd. Not only was it a deliberate barb to choose a sidekick that they'd already beaten before, but to put him with a Hero who couldn't even utilise his power was adding insult to the injury.

"All right," Boomer said, frowning slightly as he ticked off their names. "Walker, Damsale! Get your gear on and get ready!"

Ethan handed his phone to Zach and hurried to the change room as fast as he could, not wanting to upset Coach Boomer. Wendy didn't seem as fussed about the coach's feelings, and strolled down to the girl's change room.

"You sure the Popsicle's all right with this?" Warren asked Layla for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"He's fine. Just keep him preoccupied while I deal with Walker, okay?"

"Just be careful, all right? Walker's not known for her calm and reasonable temperament," he muttered.

"I'm planning on that, actually," Layla replied with a grin.

"All right, teams. You've got a minute to discuss strategies. Go!" Boomer called.

Wendy glared at Ethan. "Are you going to do anything other than melt in fear the moment one of them gets too close?"

"P-probably not," Ethan squeaked in fear at her harsh tone.

"At least you're honest about it... Fine, just stay out of the way. I'll try not to fry you with a lightning bolt. No promises though," she added with a cruel smirk.

He eeped in response, and nodded quickly, stepping back from her.

"Time's up! Get ready to fight in three ... two ... one ... GO!" Coach Boomer boomed loudly, starting the clock and pressing the button for the citizen to start descending.

Before Wendy or Ethan could even take a step forward, Warren threw a fireball directly at Ethan, and he melted quickly to avoid being barbecued. The fireball landed short, while Warren's next three landed off as well. The four fireballs combined to create a circle around Ethan's melted form, trapping him. Taking the flames higher so Ethan couldn't escape as he did last time, Warren concentrated on keeping them that size.

Wendy sighed in annoyance at the lame sidekick she'd been partnered with, and focused her attention on Layla. There was just enough moisture in the air for her to create a cloud, and she made it as heavy as she could without depriving the student population of their required water. A few water bottles became empty when the atmosphere became hotter, and soon, the cloud Wendy had created was heavy enough to cause rain. She worked on making the atmosphere colder now, half of her concentration on keeping the cloud in the air. The hot and cool atmosphere's combined, striking at each other and beginning to create lightning.

Meanwhile, Layla was creating a forest of vines and trees from the floorboards. She made the trees tall in order to protect herself, Warren, and the citizen against Wendy's oncoming storm. Walking between the trees, Layla made it to the citizen. Due to the height of her trees, no one could see what was happening in the arena, not even Coach Boomer. A vine trailed along the ground, moving to take Wendy, wrapping around her tightly and a leaf covering her mouth to stop her scream. If anyone in the crowd had seen the move, they would have presumed that Layla was simply distracting Wendy from the storm she was creating.

Wendy opened her eyes to find herself staring at the citizen, who was whole and sitting in front of her innocently. A leaf was wrapped around its mouth in order to stop it from talking.

"We've already won. In less time than it took for you to make a storm cloud, I might add. Let off a bolt or two if it'll make you feel better," Layla offered.

Three bolts hits various parts of the forest, the trees starting to burn. Warren stopped the fires easily in a matter of seconds. Layla let the leaf move from Wendy's mouth, seeing that she had something to say.

"What do you want from me?" she hissed.

"I want to offer you the chance to beat Stronghold," Layla replied calmly.

From outside of the forest, they could hear the students chanting, counting down the last minute loudly and eagerly. There wasn't much else for them to do since they couldn't see what was going on in the arena.

"W-what?" Wendy echoed in shock.

"You win here, you beat Stronghold in the next game. Fairly simple, really. You'll even get to choose your own sidekick, since Ethan won't be able to play after this," Layla added.

"What do you want in return?" Wendy asked suspiciously, not stupid enough to think there wouldn't be some sort of catch.

"When the time's right, we'll find you," Layla replied, shrugging.

Wendy frowned slightly. It sounded awfully similar to the conversations she'd overheard Penny and Gwen - no, not Gwen, Royal Pain, she reminded herself harshly - talking about the year before. But she'd never been a part of those conversations, had never been asked, even though she'd heard it all. Despite leaving the little group to their own devices, sure that they'd be caught, she hadn't told on them. Gwen had never seen that as something to be rewarded...

Even so, there was something different about Layla. Not just the fact that she was planning something that didn't involve the word 'I' all the time, but rather 'us', something which was unheard of in the villainous community. Layla seemed as though she could do what Royal Pain had never succeeded in completing. She wasn't bent on a vain plan of revenge that had been boiling for years beneath the surface, but there was something there, something that seemed to be hiding just how dark she really was becoming. Wendy was surprised she hadn't seen it before.

The shouts from the audience became louder; they were in the last ten seconds of the game.

"It's your choice, Wendy. You can get your revenge on Stronghold with one simple word," Layla offered.

Wendy looked away from her briefly. The citizen seemed to be mocking her, lifeless and unblinking eyes telling her that the three letter word had never been this hard to say before.

"Yes."

A crack of lightning accompanied her word, a few surprised screams following it. A second passed, and a loud mulching sound was heard. It was so loud that it overtook the students' chanting, and silence fell as the forest subsided. When the trees disappeared entirely, Wendy and Layla were revealed. Wendy was standing above an unconscious Layla, burn marks littering the redhead's body. A lightning bolt seemed to have hit a nearby tree and affected the creator just as badly. Half of the citizen was still sticking out of the metal teeth, but it was more than obvious who had won the game.

The crowd was silent for a long moment, and then a smattering of applause started, even as Nurse Spex made her way into the arena. She looked at Wendy's body, commenting on the thorns and bruises she'd received from Layla's vines.

"I'll play with them, thanks," Wendy said, standing up straighter and biting back a wince of pain.

"Very well. Come to me after school though; you don't want to leave those thorns untreated."

Wendy gave Nurse Spex a curt nod. Warren was carrying Ethan over, his arm around his shoulders as the younger boy dragged his feet along the floor, too exhausted from being in his melted form to walk on his own. From the stands, Zach hurried to join them and took Ethan from Warren so the older boy could carry Layla out.

"All three of you had best come with me," Nurse Spex clucked.

Boomer looked annoyed at yet another victor needing to go to the nurse's office, but waved them out of his arena and pressed the button to put the new citizen above the metal teeth. He might've liked the style of the hot head and flower child, but they'd been beaten, and he had a new game to referee.

...

Warren waited in the foyer of the house while Layla hurried upstairs to get her work. She kept her footsteps quiet, not wanting to wake her Great Aunt if she was asleep, as she hadn't seen any sign of her in the downstairs area. Layla hadn't had the chance to tell Greta that she wouldn't be working that night. In fact, they'd barely said two words to each other in as many days, and Layla was too stubborn to be the first to break the silence.

Hearing a loud moan, Layla frowned in confusion. She wondered if her Great Aunt was in pain, and hadn't been able to call anyone for help. It was a common thing to happen to old people, apparently. A desire to see her in pain flowed through her, the vines beneath her skin rippling in pleasure at the very thought. Making her way down the hallway softly, Layla peeked into Greta's bedroom where the noise had come from. Her eyes widened and she hurried to step back, intent on keeping her footsteps even quieter than before.

Okay, she definitely wasn't in pain, Layla concluded, feeling disgusted at what she'd just witnessed. Then her disgust dissipated, and she frowned. Layla was sure that she'd seen that man's face before. She'd never met him, she knew that, but she had seen him somewhere.

On T.V.? A poster, billboard, magazine? Maybe a photograph? That one prompted her memory, and Layla almost gasped out loud.

The man who was in there with her Great Aunt was Henry Olgestein, the soon-to-be ex-husband of Frieda. Frieda, who was Greta's best friend.

Despite the mental trauma, the blackmail opportunity was too good to resist. Layla quickly got her phone out of her pocket, and switched the camera on to record. She then used a vine to move the phone towards the door and film what was happening inside. A few more moans occurred, these ones involving names, and she winced.

Principal Powers had wanted her to attend counselling sessions after her mother's death - well, now she definitely had something to be counselled about! she thought with a horrified shudder.

Remembering that Warren was still downstairs, Layla pulled her phone back to her, the vine disappearing. She went to her room to get her work, leaving as quickly and quietly as possible. Putting her finger to her lips when she saw Warren, she ignored his questioning look, and they left the house. Shutting the door behind them quietly, Layla took his hand, basically pulling him up the street. It was only when they were at the bus stop that she explained.

"My Great Aunt was in there ... doing stuff with Henry Olgestein," she said, shuddering.

"Olgestein, as in Frieda?"

She nodded. "Her soon-to-be ex-husband. Greta kept saying how many times he cheated on Frieda; I didn't think she knew from personal experience."

"I'm surprised you weren't out of there like a shot. What took you so long?"

"I recorded it for blackmail, of course."

"Of course," he said, chuckling. "I have no desire to see that video," Warren added quickly when she pulled out her phone.

"Don't worry; I'm just emailing it to myself. I don't want this to be the only copy if my phone gets mysteriously smashed," Layla muttered, her voice little more than a growl.

"Good idea," he agreed with a nod. "Any plans on how you're going to blackmail them?"

"A few," she admitted, her bright smile a startling contrast to their conversation. "Would you help me?"

"Of course." Warren didn't hesitate with his answer, didn't need to think about the consequences, or even know the particulars of what she wanted before agreeing.

Layla kissed him intently, and he felt his vine mark around his wrist start to ache in response. Despite having his eyes closed, Warren was certain that Layla's eyes would be bright green at that moment. He couldn't find it within himself to care, and kissed her back passionately, his lips curving into a grin.

...

That afternoon, when the study session was done, Layla asked Warren's mother if she could stay over for the night. She was given permission to do so, so long as she and Warren slept in separate rooms. Ms. Peace was too tired after her day of team building with her colleagues to even give them a manipulative push in their minds to obey her. She went to bed an hour after dinner, her feet dragging.

Layla text her Great Aunt to let her know that she wouldn't be home that night. She added that she'd be staying over at a friends, and not to expect her until late Saturday afternoon.

"All right, now that that's done, care to share your plans, hippie?" Warren asked, looking at her from across the table.

They'd started studying after dinner while Warren's mother watched TV in a futile attempt to stay awake. As Layla had predicted, most of their time at Zach's had been spent watching the Save the Citizen videos. Zach had organised for the girl who turned into a ball (Layla vaguely remembered him referring to her as Gail) to record the fight between Stronghold and Wendy.

The fight had been surprisingly short, with Stronghold attempting to fly out of Wendy's range, which really was a ridiculous thing to attempt inside of an enclosed building against a person who could manipulate the weather. The smaller fight between their sidekicks - Magenta for Will, and Paul, the human hose, for Wendy - was no contest. Paul almost drowned the guinea pig form Magenta took, and his water had caught up in the cyclone Wendy had created, turning it into a wet cyclone that drenched the opposition. Both Will and Magenta had left the arena sneezing and shivering, so it was highly doubtful that they'd be at school come Monday morning. Despite the short fight, they had watched it five times in a row before Ethan had prompted them to do homework.

Warren had been extremely patient waiting to hear the blackmail plans Layla had thought of, but now he was close to going up in flames if he didn't find out very damn soon. With a grin and a flash of green in her eyes, Layla detailed her plans.

...

Henry walked down the carpeted hallway, a spring in his step. His divorce with Frieda was almost finalised, and despite the setup that she thought would win her case, it hadn't worked out. Henry had been warned of Frieda's plans, and despite the very attractive blonde that he'd been going to see, he had enough sense to realise that it wasn't one of Greta's jealous stints and spent the night at a friend's instead.

His infidelity was Frieda's fault, of course. He wouldn't have even looked at Greta (or the numerous other women) if Freida hadn't been such a whining and irritating cow. Henry shook his head and told himself to focus on the fact that he would be keeping his money and he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and without stupid, annoying Frieda in tow.

"Hello Henry," a pleasant voice said as he entered the kitchen.

Henry was so preoccupied that he replied before he realised that Greta was still upstairs and they were the only two in the house. His head whipped to where a redheaded girl was seated at the kitchen counter, a mug in her hands and a phone beside her.

"Who are you? How'd you get in here?" Henry asked, his voice raising.

"Don't bother trying to warn Greta that someone else is here; she's being brought down right now," Layla said.

As if on cue, Greta tumbled through the kitchen door, a towering teen following her calmly, streaks of fire burning through his hair. Henry shook his head and saw that the flames were just streaks of red, and dismissed his previous thought as a trick of the light.

"Layla? What the fuck is going on here? You little bit-" Greta didn't get to finish her sentence, a vine slithering up from the ground and wrapping around her mouth firmly.

Henry yelped in fear and tried to back away, but another vine rose out of nowhere and wrapped around his torso. He whimpered in pain when he felt thorns digging into his body.

"Don't be in such a hurry to rush off, Henry. We haven't even been introduced yet. I'm Layla, Greta's great niece. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'd be lying," she said with a brief and mocking smile. "Now, I want you both to listen. That means focusing your attention on my words and being quiet. Do you think you can do that?"

Both Henry and Greta nodded briefly, the first trembling in fear while the latter simply glowered. The moment they were let go, Layla wouldn't know what hit her. She would be going to that boarding school, and if she was lucky, Greta wouldn't press charges and send her to gaol for the rest of her life. The little bitch had no idea who she was dealing with!

"Good. What I have to say is very important, and I know you'll want to hear it," Layla said calmly, setting her mug down and picking up her phone.

A few seconds later, moans filled the kitchen. Greta's eyes widened, wondering just what sick thing Layla was making them listen to. Then she heard her own name, and recognised Henry's voice. The phone was brought closer until she could see the clear picture of Henry and her own face in the video. She struggled against the vine, her shouts muffled by the thick leaf. Feeling an intense heat beside her, Greta stilled when she saw the flaming fist that was only inches away from her. The expression on Warren's face was terrifying, and Greta whimpered when the vine made her face Layla once more. Somehow, the girl's expression was even worse.

"I said for you to be quiet. If you keep making noise, you will be hurt. Is that understood?"

Greta nodded briefly. The video continued to play; Henry was actually sobbing by the time it ended, and Greta was too terrified to do more than tremble. Beneath her fear, she wondered if she could still get away with sending Layla away to boarding school.

"Now, I am aware of the divorce you are currently going through, Mr. Olgestein. This video could be very damning evidence, and I can upload it to the Internet in less than five seconds. I also have a copy to send to both your lawyer and Frieda's. You will both be ruined socially as well as financially. Are you willing to risk that?" Layla asked, looking between them.

Henry was the first to crack and shook his head quickly. He wasn't stupid; he knew that his wealth was the main reason women threw themselves at him. If that video went to the lawyers, he would be left with next to nothing.

Greta took a moment longer to agree. She had her own wealth, and while that wasn't at risk, her social status was. She may have loathed most of her so-called friends, but she knew how they operated. Frieda would be the one who would be victimised by all this, and in their friends eyes, Greta would be to blame. No matter how much money she had, she would be the one who hurt Frieda in their eyes - not Henry. Nearly all of their friends were the Chairperson (or the wives of the Chairperson) for nearly every Board and committee that ran the decent events in both Maxville and Westville. She could kiss goodbye any chance she had of being invited to a simple luncheon again, let alone a high-class social function. She might as well donate everything to a charity and plan her funeral. Greta shuddered at the prospect, and finally, shook her head.

"Good. Now, sit down and we'll discuss what I want in return for my silence."

The vines didn't disappear as Greta thought they would. Instead, they changed their shape until they were formed like chairs, their bodies forced in to seated positions.

"Henry, you will give Frieda the amount of money she wants in your divorce settlement. It's better than losing all of it," Layla added when he attempted to protest. When he quietened, she continued, "Greta, when I finish my education at Sky High, you will pay the rent for any place I choose to live in, and if I decide to continue my education, you will also pay for that. Until the time I leave, you are to be pleasant to me. If you are unable to manage that, then you are to leave me alone at all costs."

Layla took a moment to look at each of them. Henry still looked terrified, obviously this was his first encounter with a super-powered person; Greta looked slightly scared, but there was an intense hatred simmering beneath the fear that made Layla think she wouldn't hold to the bargain, even if she agreed.

"Do you agree to my terms?"

Warren moved to stand beside her, his arms flaming fiercely as he glared at them. She smiled briefly and took his hand in her own, the flames licking at her skin and her fire brand on her wrist spinning.

Henry nodded quickly, and after another long moment of silence, Greta nodded reluctantly.

"Trust me, my silence is not as costly as what will happen when this information is provided to the local media and your lawyer. Believe me when I say that I will know the precise moment you attempt to go back on this, no matter where you are," Layla added, the vines tightening.

Henry and Greta's screams were ripped from their throats as the vines thorns burrowed into and beneath their skin, feeling every inch like individual needles burning in their bloodstream.

Layla simply smiled and watched as their pain drove them to unconsciousness. When they both slumped forward, Warren let the flames disappear from his arms, and he turned to look at Layla. Surprisingly, her eyes were brown, but her veins and arteries were all bright green, giving her skin an ethereal look.

"All right, hippie?"

"Perfect," she breathed, smiling at him. "You?"

"Fine. Didn't really do much," he replied with a shrug.

"Don't worry, you will do so much more later," Layla murmured, rising on her toes to kiss him eagerly.

Warren kissed her back, closing his eyes to the sight of the two unconscious people behind Layla.

...

End of chapter twenty-one.

Hope you liked it!