Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

Read on, oh faithful ones...

...

Chapter Twenty-Two

...

Warren resisted the urge to scratch his face. He couldn't even hold Layla's hand to distract him from the itching sensation. With the way they were both dressed, he'd look like the world's biggest cradle robber. She'd put her hair in pigtails and was wearing a bright yellow shirt beneath denim overalls, looking much younger than her 16 years. At her insistence, he'd dressed in a pair of jeans and a suit shirt, a tie loose around his neck. He hadn't shaved for the last three days, and his lack of sleep had made the bags under his eyes darker, both combining to make him look closer to thirty than his actual teenage years. The stubble was itching like crazy though, and Warren couldn't wait to leave so he could find the closest possible razor to take to his face.

"Good morning, welcome to the lottery claim centre. How can I help you?" a young woman asked pleasantly, smiling at them brightly.

"I won a division prize for the lottery that I'd like to claim," Warren replied.

"Of course; do you have your ticket with you?"

He nodded, fishing his wallet from his pocket quickly and handing her the small piece of paper. A few bells and whistles sounded after she scanned the ticket in the machine, and she smiled at him a bit brighter.

"Congratulations on your win, sir. If you'll follow me, there's just a small amount of paperwork for you to fill out before you can collect this amount of money," she said, leaving the counter.

Warren and Layla followed her, neither able to stop from smiling at the prospect that they were about to become very rich.

The paperwork was fairly standard, telling Warren exactly how much he had won, the tax requirements on the money, asking whether he wanted his name printed in the newspaper regarding his win (he ticked no, of course, knowing that was a sure-fire way to get stalked and/or robbed), and his contact details. The money would be transferred to an account of his choice, and Warren wrote down the details that Layla had provided to him earlier. It was her own bank account, the same one that the money from selling her house had gone in to. The moment the money was in the account, she would halve it with him. Layla planned on splitting her own half in to several different bank accounts in order to gain more interest.

Once everything was signed, they left the claim centre again. The woman looked after the man and assumed step-daughter, pleased that they seemed to be genuinely happy to receive the money. So many people came in, acting as if they'd expected nothing less than what they'd won, while others she knew would spend it frivolously. But it wasn't her job to judge them, so she returned to her job without another thought for the two that had just left the building.

...

Warren and Layla boarded the bus silently, but he could see that she was barely holding on to her excitement. She undid her pigtails, pulling her hair back into a rough bun. Warren grinned when she pulled him to her by his tie, kissing him fiercely, and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tighter.

"Hmm, you really need to shave that. It scratches," Layla murmured, caressing his cheek with a brief frown.

"Believe me, I know. I can't wait to shave the damned thing off," he added, stroking the stubble in distaste.

"Bet you can't wait to get back in to your normal pants either," Layla said with a grin, her gaze travelling down.

Warren saw the way her eyes darkened, the slight gasp of breath she took in appreciation, and grinned. Maybe he'd keep the jeans for another time.

They were silent as they walked from the bus stop to his house, and when they were both certain that the house was empty and Ms. Peace had gone out for the day, Layla made a loud noise of excitement and joy. She kissed Warren so eagerly that he lost his footing, and they ended up on the floor, her body straddling his.

Warren closed his eyes tightly as she kissed him, trying to keep some semblance of control. Pulling away, Layla stayed straddling his waist as she watched his battle for control flit across his face. She grinned to herself at the sight, kissing him chastely once more and standing up. Warren opened his eyes to look up at her in confusion.

"You were waging a battle big enough for both of us, so I made the decision for you. If I can use your computer while you're shaving, I'll transfer the money over for you if it's in there already," Layla said, smiling.

Warren sat up with a nod, feeling a mix between relieved and disappointed. He knew that the moment he was alone, he'd be thinking of her body pressed against him, the heat between her legs pressing up against him and setting his whole body aflame with need. Hell, Warren doubted that he'd even need to get angry to power up for the rest of the month.

"Come on, you've got to go to work soon," Layla called from down the hall.

Warren hurried to go after her, turning on the computer and Internet modem before leaving for the bathroom.

The money hadn't been transferred immediately, but Layla hadn't truly expected it to be. Instead, she went to a few different bank websites and created some new accounts so she could put her money in it when it arrived.

Layla cleared her Internet history, not liking the idea of someone finding her searches. She knew that Warren wouldn't say anything about the banks she had chosen - she trusted him - but identity theft was always in the realm of possibility, especially with so many technologically-able supers and telepaths in Maxville.

Warren opened his bedroom door, Layla automatically looking over at the sudden motion. Her mouth went dry when she saw that he was only in a towel, and she licked her lips.

"Fuck, Layla, you can't do that," Warren groaned.

"Do what?" she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Look like that, especially when you're looking at me like that. Do you have any idea what it does to me?"

Layla wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about, but she figured that he was just as affected by her as she was by him. Smiling, she stood, kissed his cheek, and left Warren's room with a happy hum, leaving him slightly bewildered by her actions.

...

Greta muttered under her breath angrily as she diced the chicken breast for her own dinner. Layla had gone too far. Henry had woken up and all but run out of the house, never mind that he was wearing nothing but a bathrobe. He wouldn't return her calls, and refused to pick up his things. Greta was of half the mind to dump them off at Frieda's front step, just to rub salt in the stupid man's wounds. He was stupid enough to be afraid of a teenage girl.

How pathetic, Greta thought to herself in disgust. She'd gone through the exact same treatment as Henry, but you didn't see her running away like the hounds of Hell were after her!

Returning to her muttering, Greta moved onto the carrots, chopping up the vegetable sharply. If she had her way, Layla would be on the next bus to the super boarding school on the other side of the country.

A sharp piercing sensation began to cover her body. Greta howled in pain as phantom thorns dug into her skin, burrowing into her bones, wave after wave of pain flowing over her as she started to scream louder. The pain lessened after a few minutes, and Greta leaned on the bench, panting heavily.

What on earth had Layla done to her?

...

Finishing the last of the files in The Monster, even with the extra documents that had been put in her tray, Layla stood up and stretched her aching limbs. Seeing that it was almost 8 o'clock, she packed her things ready to leave, and wrote a note for Ms. Peace stating that she'd finished organising The Monster.

She had spent most of the afternoon photocopying the documents requested by people in the office - far less than the forty-six Layla had been given a few weeks ago; apparently, due to that act, both Stephanie and Jillian were under professional review due to their bullying.

Layla hadn't been the only one subjected to their bullying, but the Mayor hadn't noticed until the incident with the photocopying requests had been brought to his attention. An employee collapsing due to overexertion at work didn't sit well with the Mayor; he loathed the idea of spending money for compensation because of a bully. Stephanie was no longer the Mayor's favourite, and this set everyone on edge, unsure of what would happen next.

As it was a Monday night, Warren was meeting her to escort her home, and Layla lingered in the foyer to talk with the security guard before he did his rounds of the building. Dave seemed surprised that she was actually interested in anything he was saying, but talked at length about his job and the things he'd seen over the years of working for whichever Mayor was in office.

A knock at the door had Dave starting in surprise, but Layla simply reassured the man that it was her boyfriend come to pick her up. He nodded in understanding and let Warren inside out of the cold. Warren thanked him with a nod, and looked to Layla.

"Ready to go, hippie?"

"Sure. Thanks for the chat, Dave. See you tomorrow," Layla said with a smile.

The moment she was close enough, Warren took hold of her hand. Surprised at the uncharacteristic motion from him, she let a wave of power roll down her arm to the brand on her wrist. The flames recognised that Warren was actually Warren and flared up in pain. Layla hurried to control her breathing so she wouldn't cry out, and swiping her card at the door, she left with Warren.

They were both silent as they walked to the bus stop, but Layla could feel waves of emotion rolling off Warren as clear as if they were flames themselves.

"What the hell was that about, hippie?" Warren asked in a growl when they'd stopped.

"I wasn't sure it was you; you're never the first to hold hands," Layla pointed out.

"Well, it fucking hurt," he muttered, pulling his leather cuff off to look at his wrist.

Blood was seeping from numerous holes, all in the exact place where the thorns were on the branded vine.

Layla winced slightly, but couldn't feel too remorseful for what she'd done. "Why'd you go and hold my hand anyway?"

Even though he was still looking down at his wrist, Layla could see that her question had made his cheeks turn red.

"I wanted to touch you," Warren admitted, sounding pained at the verbal confession.

She laughed, and he scowled at her, pulling her against him.

"Why are you laughing?" he growled, moving to kiss and nip at her neck.

"Because you, Mr. Scorch-Anyone-Who-Holds-My-Hand, wanted to hold my hand, and I hurt you instead! Not nice to be hurt when you're holding someone's hand, is it?" Layla asked, still laughing.

"Stop. Laughing," Warren murmured against her skin, kissing her between his words.

His words had little influence, and she continued to laugh, her arms around his neck loosely. "Oh, the bus is here. Coming?"

Muttering something under his breath that Layla didn't quite catch, she just grinned at him over her shoulder and stepped onto the bus. Warren adjusted his jacket briefly and followed her on board.

...

It had become a habit over the past few days for Layla to immediately checked her bank account upon waking up. Despite knowing that she had a larger amount of money in a trust fund from the sale of her mother's house, the sight of seeing over $91,000 in her bank account made Layla feel very lightheaded. As promised, she transferred half to Warren, taking a moment to look at the remaining amount of $45,505. Knowing that she would have to be very careful about transferring her money to the separate accounts, Layla logged out of her account and hurried to get ready for school.

When Warren boarded the bus an hour later, she could tell that he already knew about the money. He was scowling, but she could see his mouth twitching briefly as if he was trying hard not to just break out into a heart-melting grin. The moment he was seated, Warren kissed Layla hard, his lips so hot that she was sure her lips would be burnt when they stopped. She grinned at him when he pulled away, and licked her tingling lips, feeling them cracked beneath her tongue. Unable to care about such a trivial thing, Layla kissed Warren once more, a smile on her face as his hands burned against her hips.

The bus dropped off the end of the freeway, belts strapping them in against the seat. With a content sigh, Layla stopped kissing Warren, her lips at his ear.

"Good morning to you too," she said, laughing softly.

"A very good morning, hippie," Warren replied teasingly, his lips pressing against her neck.

"Have you decided what you're going to spend it on?" Layla asked, trying to hold back a moan as one of his hands slid up her spine, tendrils of heat spreading from his fingertips.

"Thought of a hundred things already, none of them practical or sensible," he added, chuckling. "You?"

"Secret Sanctum," she replied.

"You think you can do it up with that?"

"I can definitely get it started," Layla replied certainly.

She'd spent most of her weekend looking at real estate websites for a varying range of houses, apartments, buildings, and the like for something suitable to double as a Secret Sanctum. It was only a chance search that had given Layla an idea that she was now set on, and determined to make work. She just needed to find some information in The Monster that night at work, and Layla's half of the winnings wouldn't be in her account for very long.

"Details, hippie," Warren growled in her ear when she didn't elaborate.

"Later, we're here now," Layla replied, kissing his cheek and turning to hold on to the bar in front of her seat.

Warren sighed, knowing she wouldn't tell him a thing no matter what he said or did, and turned to hold on just as the bus landed on the school's runway.

...

"I know you're planning something, Lay. Any chance you're going to fill me in on the details sometime soon?" Zach muttered.

Layla looked at him in surprise, both for his words, and the fact that he was talking of it so openly, even if they were the only two in the corridor. She'd been held back after Mad Science and was running late for lunch, but Layla had assumed that Zach waiting by her locker was something that Warren had organised.

She didn't reply for a moment, reaching inside herself where the vine was curled and waiting, searching for some sort of response to Zach like she'd had with Wendy. There was an ache in response, but not much more than that. However, in the same moment, Layla knew that it wouldn't take long for Zach to become more permanent.

"Not yet, Zach. Just give it time. I'll let you know when you're ready."

"Don't ... just don't leave me out, 'kay? Don't do anything without me," Zach pleaded.

Smiling, Layla nodded. "I'll try... You're probably not going to do anything without Ethan, are you?" she asked as they headed to the cafeteria.

"I might," he replied, but sounded uncertain to his own ears.

"Maybe work on that then. I don't think I'd be doing this if I didn't have Warren with me," she admitted.

"Have you done anything yet?" Zach asked curiously.

"I've negotiated with my Great Aunt. I'll give you those details later too, when you're ready."

He didn't look entirely appeased, but when they entered the cafeteria, Zach started talking about a movie he'd gone to on the weekend, animating the explosions and car chases with actions and loud noises to accompany his explanations. Layla smiled, nodding and laughing in all the right places, and responding when she thought it necessary.

"I'm going to sit with Larry and the boys for lunch today. I'll see you later," Layla said sweetly, kissing Warren's cheek and going to leave.

Warren grabbed her hand before she could go, glowering up at her. "Details first, hippie."

She laughed as if he'd said the most amusing thing in the world, taking her hand out of his grasp. "You honestly thought you'd get them here?" Layla asked, going over to where Larry, Adam, and Craig were sitting, saving a seat for her.

Warren scowled at her retreating form, muttering under his breath.

"Hey, don't worry about it, man. I've got to wait weeks before I hear anything," Zach muttered sympathetically.

Warren looked at him in surprise, wondering if Zach was talking about what he thought he was.

"What are you two talking about?" Ethan asked, looking between them with a frown.

"Layla's job. The local election's coming up, so she's going to be busy," Warren replied.

His frown deepened, making it clear that Ethan didn't entirely believe Warren's response. Zach started talking about the movie he'd seen on the weekend again, stating that he wanted to see it for a second time. Realising that it was Zach's subtle way of asking him out, Ethan nodded, grinning.

...

Half an hour before school finished that afternoon, Principal Powers came on the PA, announcing that a supervillain was terrorising Maxville below, and all students were to stay inside until further notice.

TV screens were brought into the classrooms for students to watch the fight between this villain and the Commander and Jetstream. The villain introduced himself as Iceman (Layla could imagine Warren groaning and wanting to hit his head on the desk at the horrifyingly lame name), and stated the usual villainous things about defeating the Commander and Jetstream, about his reign over the city, and generally monologuing instead of fighting.

Surprisingly, his ability actually kept the two heroes at bay for some time. Iceman made the atmosphere so heavy that they could feel the cold temperature inside Sky High, and Jetstream was unable to stay up in the air at a high height. The moment she was close enough to the ground, Iceman froze the Commander so he couldn't move and punch his way out of the ice he'd been encased in. With her husband suddenly much heavier than usual, Jetstream couldn't hold him up, and had to fly to the ground to put him down so she wouldn't drop him. Placing him on top of a vent in the sidewalk, Jetstream flew in the opposite direction in an attempt to distract Iceman while the Commander thawed out.

Her tactic worked and the Iceman followed her, freezing things around her as he attempted to capture her in ice as well. Despite being close to the ground, Jetstream was able to dodge the incoming onslaughts of ice, weaving in and out of structures and buildings to avoid being captured. Thick pillars of ice hit buildings and cars alike, narrowly missing the Channel Five reporter's van, as the news chopper had been grounded due to the heavy atmosphere as well.

One of the news reporters had snuck past the fighting duo to get a closer camera shot of the Commander as he was almost completely thawed out. His movement went unnoticed by both Jetstream and the Iceman. As the Commander was facing the opposite way, the news reporter was subsequently covered in shards of ice and hit with the Commander's full strength as he burst from his frozen confines. The cameraman's gasp could be clearly heard when the reporter fell to the ground, a large lump on his head, a dark bruise already forming, and blood starting to ooze from the back of his head where he'd hit the asphalt.

"Oh shit, I think he's dead," the cameraman groaned, sounding sickened.

The camera view changed as he moved to the reporter to check his pulse. For a long moment, the TV screens in Sky High all went black. The picture returned suddenly, with Brian Anderson, the anchor at the TV station stating that everything was fine, and they were just having a technical difficulty. By the time the cameras returned to the scene, the fight was already over. The Commander had run to his wife's aid the moment he'd burst free from the ice, and the fight was over in a matter of minutes. Jetstream distracted Iceman long enough for the Commander to punch him, knocking the supervillain out cold.

There was a flash of the news reporter's body being zipped up in a black bag as the TV station tried to switch from the Commander and Jetstream waving to the cameras to the anchor's camera once more. Brian Anderson did his usual sign off with an exorbitant amount of gratitude for the Commander and Jetstream, but Layla noted that it seemed a little forced this time, and Brian was looking green around the edges.

Principal Powers came over the PA once more, sounding somewhat hesitant as she announced that everyone could leave in an orderly fashion to the buses. Most of the students were quiet as they left the classrooms, and the silence continued even as the buses left Sky High.

When the bus' jet-engine exhausts were at their loudest, Layla turned to Warren, her mouth at his ear.

"I think I can use this to our advantage."

"How?"

Grinning, Layla detailed her idea to him. Warren was impressed at her cunning to turn what had been an accident into something like this.

"That will definitely work. You have to time it just right though, or the Mayor's not going to agree to it."

Layla nodded. "I think that there's going to be enough fuss raised over this that addressing it earlier will help the Mayor look good."

"Oh, you definitely have to say something like that to him. Mention the election, and he'll agree to it before you've even said a thing," Warren said, chuckling against her skin.

She grinned at him brightly and then settled herself against him, his arm around her shoulders, and her hand resting in his.

...

On arriving at work, Layla found that everyone was running around, shouting instructions to each other over the noise of phones ringing in every cubicle.

"Oh, Layla. You're here..." Ms. Peace said, looking slightly crestfallen. "As you can see, we're busy at the moment. If you could just sit with The Monster until this is over? We've got a hell of a mess to clean up," she said distractedly when her phone began to ring again.

Passing the Mayor's office, Layla saw him shouting into the phone about damages to cars, buildings, how much it would cost to repair and reconstruct the office building that had been almost destroyed, and how the melting ice leaking into the vent below the street had caused some sort of pipe damage.

"And that's on top of the funeral costs that the PR department's already agreed to for that idiotic reporter getting in the way!" he yelled.

Seeing Layla standing at the doorway, his fierce expression changed to one of abstract horror, and he hurried to shut his office door firmly.

A loud hacking and coughing sounded behind her, and Layla turned to see the Mayor's personal assistant looking absolutely miserable as he coughed into a large handkerchief.

"Are you all right?" she asked with a slight frown.

"Hairball that won't come out," he replied, reminding Layla all too graphically that his power was to shift into a cat.

"Oh, I hope it does soon," Layla said as sympathetically as she could manage, leaving quickly to the office that housed The Monster.

Leaving the door open so she could hear what was happening, the noise gradually began to die down after a few hours. When it was almost back to normal, Ms. Peace found Layla tidying up the newest batch of files for The Monster.

"You seem to have tamed it well," she said with a quick grin.

"Thanks; I'm just glad it's staying the way I left it. I'd much prefer to put everything away myself since I know where it all is," Layla replied. "How's it going out there? It was a bit hectic earlier."

"That's an understatement," Ms. Peace said, laughing. "I tell you, it's usually more work to clean up after a superhero than it is for them to defeat the villain!"

"How so? I mean, I know there was some damage to buildings, and ... that reporter," Layla added.

"Yeah, there was that. It's not the first time that reporter tried to get up close during a fight like that. This time he just wasn't so lucky to escape," she said, sighing heavily. "He was a good guy, and didn't deserve to go out like that."

They were both silent for a few moments as a sign of respect for the dead.

"So what else needs to be cleaned up after the villain's defeated?" Layla asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Well, there's the damages to the buildings, so that takes time, money, and people that we can't often spare. People's cars were destroyed, so they'll be wanting compensation in some way or another. The ice that melted had some sort of super freezing ability, and it resolidified after melting off of the Commander, so we've got people trying to fix the pipes that it dripped on to. The buildings that were damaged will have to be closed until they've been fixed, and since there were about twenty buildings damaged, it means that some people might be out of work for a month. We only have so many contractors on file to help repair things... We were lucky to get the weather supers in to get the frost out of the atmosphere. Good thing we did, or else you would've been stuck up there for a lot longer."

"So you've contacted the AAA Contractors already?" Layla asked.

Ms. Peace frowned. "No, the one on file was Maxville Construction. Who are AAA Contractors?"

"They're the super contractors. I thought you'd get them in because they've got heroes who can fix it all up quicker. I think they've even got a panel beater on staff as well... I saw a few of the documents when I was taming The Monster," Layla admitted at her curious look.

"Don't tell anyone else that, and you'll be fine. But that's a damned good idea. Come with me," she said, tugging Layla out of the room and down to the Mayor's office. Knocking, she waited for a few seconds before opening the door. "Excuse me, Mr. Mayor?"

"Yes, what is it?"

Ms. Peace nudged Layla forward, nodding at her to speak.

Licking her lips nervously, Layla started. "I was told that you got Maxville Construction in to repair the damaged buildings, but they're non-super workers. The AAA Contractors are all supered staff, and they'd get the job done a lot quicker. They charge a bit more, but the overall cost will be less, since you'll be able to have people back at work sooner and not have to compensate for them," Layla added quickly.

For a moment, the Mayor just looked at her, blinking in suprise. "That's a damned good idea. Get that going, would you, Nina?" he asked, looking to Ms. Peace. "You, stay here... What's your name again?" the Mayor asked, smiling at Layla broadly.

"Layla."

"Excellent. Lovely to meet you, Layla. You've been working here long?"

"A bit over a month," she replied, uncertain as to where this was going, and trying not to get too offended at the fact that he couldn't remember her name or that they'd already met.

"Excellent, wonderful," he muttered distractedly. "Jorge!" the Mayor called loudly.

With another cough and a loud wheeze, his personal assistant looked into the room.

"You're fired. Get your things and get out of here. I don't want to see you until the next family dinner, and even then, that will be under protest."

Jorge looked relieved, leaving the office, grabbing his bag and exiting the building with a speed that Layla almost envied.

"Congratulations, Layla, you've just been promoted to my personal assistant," the Mayor said, shaking Layla's hand.

"Uh, what?" she asked in surprise.

"Nina will sort out the details with you. Just think, you'll get to be my personal assistant, and handle things just like this! I'm sure you're a very ambitious young lady, and you'll do just fine. You know how to run things, obviously. I have to go now, I have a dinner with some very important people. Take some overtime to tidy up your new desk!" the Mayor said on his way out, seeing the mess of hair on the PA's desk.

"What just happened?" Layla asked Ms. Peace who had stepped into the room after the Mayor's departure.

"Congratulations, you've just been subjected to one of the Mayor's infamous mood swings," Nina said, grinning.

"I just got Jorge's job. Is that even legal? Shouldn't it have gone through job advertisers?"

She laughed. "The Mayor has been wanting to fire Jorge ever since he hired him. If he's ever questioned, he'll just say that it was an internal application and you were the best candidate. Don't worry, that's how I got my job."

Layla still felt a little stunned at the intensity of how everything had just changed. "He does know I'm still in school, right? I can't really be a PA if I'm not here... Can I?"

"You'll be amazed what you can arrange online nowadays. Just be stern with him, make sure you get all of his appointments done at least two months in advance, and you'll be fine. Besides, if you can't handle it, just tell me and I'll help you. Jorge hasn't been well enough to lift a finger lately, but the Mayor's still managed to get his dry cleaning every week."

Layla noted that there was a hint of bitterness in Ms. Peace's tone. "You didn't want to be his PA, did you?"

Her question seemed to startle Nina, and she laughed sourly. "Hell no. I've already got enough to do as it is. But if you're ever given something for the Mayor regarding giving me a raise, put them between a bunch of other papers and he'll sign them without looking," Ms. Peace said with a wink.

Laughing hesitantly, Layla left the Mayor's office with Ms. Peace, and began to clean her brand new desk.

...

End of the twenty-second chapter.

Thank you for reading!