Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

Read on, oh faithful ones...

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Chapter Forty Two

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"I can't believe your mother actually framed that article. The whole thing, too. It's almost A3 size!" Zach whispered, eyes wide at the brand new and very large frame hanging in the Damsale home.

The words were in a size 30 font, in bold print, and could not be missed. Still, morbidly curious, Zach bravely stepped forward and read the full article titled:

Non-super parents: just as super as their kids!

By H. Olgestein

"Mum's very proud that Honey used an exact quote from her, even if her name wasn't actually mentioned, for obvious reasons," Ethan said, tugging Zach out of the entry just so he wouldn't have to look at the damn article again. "She's promised to do the same with the every article I write."

"Your dad had better start reinforcing the walls, then. The school paper is a monthly edition. Sometimes more if The Commander and Jetstream do something especially heroic."

"Don't remind me," Ethan muttered, screwing up his nose.

"How's it going with the school paper, anyway?" Zach asked curiously, letting Ethan lead him upstairs so they could study (and hopefully make out).

"With Ben and Lisa becoming Ben-and-Lisa, it's become an extremely awkward working atmosphere. I don't think they've forgiven me for dumping that bowl of sauerkraut on their heads."

"Ah, yeah. Their expressions were so worth it though," Zach said with a grin, moving closer to Ethan to kiss him.

"We've got midterms next week, Zach," Ethan murmured as they pulled away.

Zach sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Half an hour of making out for every hour of study?"

"Fifteen minutes," Ethan replied.

"Twenty?"

"Fifteen, final offer."

"Deal. You drive a hard bargain, Damsale," Zach said, kissing him once more.

"You're both gross," Heidi said from the doorway, scrunching her nose at them.

"Don't you have homework to do?" Zach asked pointedly.

"Finished. Want to read yours; there's no chance of me studying at Sky High now, so I've gotta learn it somehow."

"That's a good idea, Heidi. You can make sure Zach actually studies then," Ethan added with a grin.

Heidi grinned back at him brightly.

"Fine, but you've gotta leave every hour for fifteen minutes, no questions asked," Zach said.

"No answers wanted," Heidi said, looking disgusted again.

"All right. We'll start with Mad Science, then work down to easier stuff like English, okay?" Ethan suggested.

Zach nodded and pulled out his Mad Science textbook. Heidi sat down across from them, waiting expectantly.

"Your hero's significant other is being lowered into a vat of toxic waste. Determine the way to save them by working out the chemical compounds of the waste: C10, H19, O6, PS2," Ethan read aloud.

Zach flipped back a few pages, frowning at his textbook. "C is carbon, right? H is potassium?" he guessed.

"That's K. H is hydrogen."

"Crap. Okay, carbon 10 and hydrogen 19. O is oxygen, I know that one. What the hell's PS?" Zach muttered, looking from his book to Ethan to Heidi.

"Don't look at me, I'm 12," Heidi said, shrugging.

"The P and S are separate," Ethan said, peering at the textbook again. "There's no PS in the periodic table, at least. P is phosphorus, and S is sulfur."

"Ah, that makes more sense. Okay, so 10 lots of carbon, 19 of hydrogen, 6 lots of oxygen. Kinda like H2O; that's gotta mean it's wet, doesn't it?"

Ethan sincerely hoped that Zach never had to go up against someone armed with chemicals. Across from them Heidi looked equal parts amused and concerned.

"I'll study your textbooks by myself instead," she said, taking Zach's textbook and leaving.

"Hey, I was using that!" Zach called after her.

Ethan shook his head and offered his own textbook to Zach. He still looked a little put out, but then settled each side of the textbook on their laps, ensuring that they were sitting as close to each other as possible.

"Never mind; this works better," Zach said with a grin. "Oh, and the answer is Malathion. It's a pesticide, so if the hero's SO is dropped into it, they'll be needing serious hospital treatment if they swallow it. They'll probably need a hospital either way, I mean it's called toxic waste for a reason, right?"

"You knew the answer?! How?" Ethan asked, suspicious and oddly proud.

"I've been studying properly for about two months now; we learnt about the chemical formulas of pesticides in Mad Sci. last week," Zach said with a shrug.

Ethan grinned. "We've been studying for an hour, right?"

"Nah, like five... Oh, wait. Yes, definitely an hour," Zach said, grinning as he shifted to pull Ethan close and kiss him.

Between them, the textbook fell to the floor with a thud, but Ethan couldn't even bring himself to care.

...

Layla was typing at her computer with such fierce concentration that the Mayor had to knock on the desk to get her attention from his doorway. She started at the noise, wishing she'd stop losing herself so easily, and in the next instant, she felt so glad that the Mayor couldn't see her screen. She closed the budget spreadsheet she had open, looking for inconsistencies in the Mayor's spending that could lead her to at least one of his mistresses.

"Sorry, Mr. Mayor. Is there anything I can do for you?" Layla asked with a bright smile.

"Book the deluxe suite at The Plantation for me next weekend; I've got that meeting in Westville with the Ambassador on Monday, so it'll be easier to get there instead of fighting my way through the commute," he added.

"Sunday night, or the whole weekend? Your last meeting on Friday is at 6pm with Dave from Security," Layla said, looking at his calendar.

"Reschedule him to Monday afternoon, and book the suite for Friday afternoon to Monday morning. I could do with a weekend off."

"Of course, Mr. Mayor."

"Put it as a business expenditure, and if my wife calls, tell her I'm at a business meeting that weekend."

Layla blinked, not comprehending him for a few moments. Then she nodded quickly. "Of course, Mr. Mayor."

It couldn't be that easy, could it?

Booking the suite took a matter of minutes, and with this new information in her mind, Layla re-opened the budgeting spreadsheet. She sent an email to reschedule with Dave before she forgot, then lost herself in her work again.

Layla's desk phone rang what felt like minutes later, but she looked at the time to see that three hours had passed.

"Good evening, the Mayor's office, this is Layla."

"Good evening Layla. I have a message for the Mayor: if he doesn't wire exactly $1 million to the bank account provided, I will release the video attached to the media," a voice, sinister and robotic, came on the other end of the call.

Layla frowned, looking from the caller ID on the phone to her computer as an email notification appeared. "Um... Sexybeast69?"

"W-what?" the robotic voice stammered, not so sinister now.

"Your email signature; you sent the email from your personal email. Well, I certainly hope it's a personal email address. Oh, and thanks to caller ID, I also have your phone number on record," Layla added brightly.

"What? I thought I turned that off?"

"You didn't test it before calling here?" Layla asked, not quite as bright now, and somewhat in disbelief.

"Uh, no. I thought... Can I call back?"

"Well, I'm finishing for the night in about ten minutes; do you think you'll be done by then?" she asked.

"Oh. Um... Is the Mayor there?"

"No; he finishes at 5pm most days. Have you done any sort of research on this, or is this just a threat? Do you even have a video?" Layla asked.

"Yes! It's in the email!"

"There's nothing attached," Layla lied, trying not to smile too much as the man cursed heatedly on the other end of the phone. "I think you should try this again another day. How about Monday? Around 4pm?" she offered, seeing that the Mayor would have half an hour free at that time.

"Um. Okay?"

"Great; good luck with your email and phone," Layla said, hanging up.

Curious as to what the video entailed, she saved it to a USB, then added her own research for the evening. With that done, Layla pocketed the USB and packed up for the night. She headed downstairs right on 8pm, waved at Dave at the security desk, and left before Warren even reached the front door. She kissed him firmly, a laugh bubbling up that she couldn't contain any longer.

"What's so funny?" Warren asked between kisses.

"I'll tell you on the bus," Layla promised, laughing again. "Oh, you're not going to believe what happened."

Warren frowned slightly, but walked with Layla to the bus stop as she laughed every now and again beside him. The bus arrived a minute later, the driver waiting for them to sit down before pulling out onto the road again.

"All right, hippie: spill."

Layla grinned and told him what happened. By the end of her retelling, Warren looked like he was seriously reconsidering his life choices.

"We're going to be lumped in with idiots like him, aren't we?" he groaned, shaking his head.

"Of course not. He was an idiot and actually agreed to a scheduled time to call back on his threat. I might redirect my phone straight to Dave; he'll appreciate the work, I think."

"Mmm, probably. He's not doing a whole lot at work, apparently."

Layla raised an eyebrow in query.

"What? We talk while I'm waiting for you. Well, if I arrive early or you're late," he amended.

"That could be a good thing. What's Dave's power again?"

"It's never come up; I'll ask next time I see him. Now, what was the video this guy actually sent?"

"No idea, I didn't get a chance to see it. I might be able to access my work email and check though. Would your mum know how to do that?"

"Probably, though she'd want to know why you're accessing your work email after work. She's very much a 'leave work at work' kind of person."

"It's a good approach to have, but I'm sure I can think of a suitable reason by the time we get to your place. Your mum doesn't mind that I'm staying the night again?"

"I think she's trying to push for me to empty out a drawer for you so you don't have to lug your bag around everywhere."

"But you always carry my bag."

"She doesn't know that."

"I'll make sure to bring it up as often as possible," Layla teased, kissing him. "Oh, you know The Plantation?"

"The hotel?" Warren asked.

"Yeah, that one. The Mayor has a business meeting in two weeks, and decided to spend next weekend at the hotel without his wife. I think he's meeting one of his mistresses there, but I can't think of a way to find out for sure without potentially losing my job. I've already gone as deep into the finances as I possibly can without raising any flags," Layla mused.

"What time's he going to be there?"

"Well, he cancelled his 6pm appointment with Dave on Friday, so I'd say it'd be sometime around then. Why, what are you thinking?" Layla asked, seeing the expression on Warren's face.

"The Plantation's not far from The Paper Lantern. I can go there after work, get in the kitchen, and find out where he is from there. The Mayor doesn't know who I am, so he won't recognise me."

"Hasn't he seen you at work functions with your mother? Does she have pictures of you on her desk?" Layla asked, trying to remember that for herself.

Warren fixed her with a pointed expression. "Do I look like the sort of person to go to work functions, or have photos taken?"

"Okay, fair point. I kind of want to take a photo of you now," she said, grinning.

"Not happening, hippie," Warren muttered, pressing the button for their upcoming stop.

"Not even one photo?" Layla asked.

"No."

Layla sighed and stood up as the bus came to a stop. "Fine, but one day you'll have to change your mind, y'know."

They both thanked the driver as they got off the bus and started walking down to the Peace residence.

"Why will I have to?" Warren asked, Layla's bag slung over his shoulder.

"Because if our plans actually work out, then our faces will be plastered on every paper and screen possible."

Warren stopped on the sidewalk, glowering at a few weeds between the cracks.

"Warren? What's wrong? It's not that bad about the photos, is it?" Layla asked, taking his hand.

He was hot to touch, and Layla's fire tattoo spun wildly, slowly easing her pain.

"What do you mean by if?" Warren growled, pulling her close to kiss, his mouth scorching and burning her lips. "When our plans work, then they can put our photo wherever they like."

Layla grinned against his mouth, her lips chapped and splitting. "When our plans work, then I'll get a photo of you too, deal?"

"What, are you going to put it on your desk in our evil villain lair?" Warren asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Layla replied sarcastically.

Warren shook his head, then cupped her cheek with his gloved hand, his thumb brushing against her dry and bloodied lips, retrieving the burn from her carefully. It didn't heal Layla's lips entirely, still bloodied from her smile, but they were no longer dry and chapped.

"Deal."

...

Wendy and Paul were still the reigning champions of Save the Citizen. From the stands, Layla noticed Adam stand up half a second before his name was called out, and Ethan grinned over at her when he saw her puzzled reaction. Craig stood up a moment later after his name was called, waving and blowing kisses to the students around him. More than one person rolled their eyes at his antics, but Layla was curious as to what they might have planned without her knowing.

"Don't worry, Layla. They've got a plan," Zach said, winking.

"And was I going to be involved in this plan anytime soon?"

"Nah, this is only small stuff. Craig just wanted to show off, mostly."

"Small plans can lead to bigger plans. I'd like to know next time," Layla replied.

Zach and Ethan both nodded, then they all turned their attention back to the game.

Warren had decided to skip today's Save the Citizen in favour of finishing his Mad Science assignment, and was in the study hall working. Layla wondered if she should call him in, test the link between their brands to see if it would actually work. She subtly moved the various bracelets around her wrist to press against the fire brand, thinking of Warren, and trying to link to her own vine brand on his wrist. Layla could feel tendrils of her power at the edge of her mind, still a little fuzzy, but there nonetheless. She didn't know if thoughts would work or just general feelings, and tried to keep calm, but indicate that he should join her in the gym. There was a brief flare of emotion, some part annoyed, another part intrigued, and Layla retreated again.

Barely two minutes passed - the two teams had changed into their padded gear and discussed their strategies - and Warren came into the gym, sitting beside Layla with his essay in his hand.

"What's going on?"

"Adam and Craig have organised something with Wendy. How's your assignment going?" she queried.

"Well, I was working on it before I got your call," he said, tugging at the cuff around his wrist. "I was hoping to finish it instead of coming here, y'know, hippie."

"Yes, I know. You can finish after this game," Layla promised, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Warren tucked his assignment back into his bag and watched as Wendy advanced on Craig and Adam, a cloud gathering above their heads. Craig shifted, changing his body to that of Wendy's. Paul continued forward, obviously knowing that Craig wasn't Wendy since he hadn't even tried to hide his shift. Craig just grinned and splayed his hand above him. There was a moment of silence and then two things happened in a quick succession: a bright flash of white lightning and a resounding boom of thunder.

The crowd went silent when they realised that Wendy hadn't been the one to set off the bolt of lightning, and that the bolt had hit a mere metre away from Paul, not Craig or Adam.

"Oh my god," Layla said, burying her head into Warren's shoulder to hide her laughter.

Beside her, Warren couldn't help grinning himself. This was a fantastic development. He couldn't help but imagine everything that Craig would be able to do, and he was on their side.

In the small arena, the fight continued. Craig had shifted from Wendy to Adam's form and they were both using his acid spit. Craig hadn't practiced as Adam had and could only spit; his aim still wasn't the best, but he managed to get Wendy to back up a few steps. Adam was throwing balls of his acid straight at Paul, whose water power was useless against the toxic acid. After a few balls of spit, Craig shifted from Adam's form to Layla's.

Layla straightened up immediately, curious to see what he'd do against Wendy in her form. Beside her, Warren realised that while Craig could shift and use the person's power, it was only a brief burst of power and he couldn't use it for an infinite amount of time as the original super could. They'd definitely have to work on that.

When Adam was preoccupied with Paul and Craig was still shifting from one form to another, Wendy started forward, a fierce wind starting to blow her opponents back.

"Paul! The citizen!" she snapped at him, keeping Adam and Craig pressed up against the wall.

In the stands above them, Coach Boomer was holding onto his hat as the wind whipped at him.

Paul looked between Wendy and the other two, then darted off towards the citizen.

Craig grew a large fern in front of him, the large leaves blocking the wind. As soon as he could breathe, he shifted again, the fern disappearing immediately. Coach Boomer was revealed and he let out a sonic blast, Wendy collapsing back to the ground. Adam had been gathering a ball of acid in his hand while they were against the wall. He immediately turned and threw it at Paul, who was unaware of what was happening behind him.

Paul was only a metre away from the citizen. There were still ten seconds left on the clock and he could save the citizen, he knew he could. In the stands, the student population started to count down eagerly. Then the ball of acid hit Paul, knocking him forward and eating at his clothes. As he fell over, less than a metre from the citizen, Paul heard it being crunched up by the metal teeth and the buzzer sounded loudly.

"Villains win!" Boomer called.

"We need to work on Craig's stamina; he couldn't keep anyone's form for very long," Warren murmured to Layla as the students clapped around them.

Layla blinked at the realisation. "You're right. I didn't even consider that; I thought he was just switching to show off."

Warren grinned, glad that he'd seen something that Layla hadn't. "I'm going to work on my essay now; let me know if I should watch any others," he said, pressing a kiss to her lips briefly before taking his essay out of his bag to continue working on it.

"Ethan's recording the rest of the fights; we'll watch them together later. You might see something else I've missed," Layla said with a grin.

Warren nodded and started writing.

...

Layla changed out of her PE clothes and back into her usual school clothes for the day. She didn't bother using her Sidekick speed to change, taking the extra time to think over the fights she'd seen. She had concentrated on Craig's form in the second and third fights, and saw that Warren was right in his inability to hold anyone's form for very long. By the time the third fight was over, he was relying more and more on Adam to win.

Adam had held back, limiting his acid only to spit or hands, despite their group all knowing that every pore in his body could leak with acid. It was a smart move, and when their time came to reveal themselves properly, it would be something that the heroes wouldn't expect.

A loud buzzing sound interrupted Layla's thoughts and she stepped out of the stall to find the source of the noise, thinking it was a bee or wasp trapped in the bathroom. She stayed quiet, listening intently. She knew how sensitive animals were to noise, and talking would probably just scare the poor thing. The buzzing noise sounded again and Layla moved over to the basins, frowning when she realised she couldn't see any creatures. The buzzing became louder still and Layla pressed her fingertips to the wall where the noise was coming from. She could feel a faint vibration under her fingers and she pulled away sharply.

Wendy was right: there was a listening bug in the bathroom.

Layla stepped back, hand clasped over her mouth to muffle any sound of surprise. She desperately tried to think of what she might have said or done in the bathrooms since returning from Homecoming. She hadn't talked about her plans with anyone; definitely not in the girl's bathroom, at least. Layla was ninety-nine percent sure that her plans were safe. She'd just have to take extra care when using the bathroom in the future.

Making a show of flushing the toilet and washing her hands, Layla slipped her bag on and left the bathroom. She wondered where else the listening devices had been planted.

...

"This camera is brand new, so if you break it, I will hurt you," Ethan said fiercely.

Warren took a moment to bite back his usual sarcastic and cynical response, knowing Ethan would probably take the camera back if he did. "I'll be careful, Popsicle."

Ethan looked surprised at Warren's response, but nodded. "Thanks. Good luck, Warren."

"Thanks."

He didn't want to look suspicious before he even arrived at his destination, so Warren slipped the camera back into its bag and put that in his own messenger bag. He had to run for the bus, and sat at the back to calm his nerves and catch his breath.

If he was caught over this...

Warren pushed the thought away fiercely. He wouldn't be caught. He would get the pictures, they could blackmail the Mayor, and no matter what happened, Warren promised himself that he would never end up sitting in a cell next to his father.

Getting off the bus at the stop closer to the Paper Lantern, Warren continued past his workplace and to the hotel two blocks away. There was a bus stop closer to the hotel, but if the Mayor decided to investigate his blackmailers, Warren didn't want to make it so easy for him. Going to the back of the hotel was easy enough, and since he was wearing his usual work uniform, Warren was able to get in to the kitchen easily enough. Layla had sent him a text with the Mayor's room number - room 29 - and the time the Mayor was meant to arrive at the hotel.

Warren waited until the front desk received a phone call to slip past the concierge to find room 32, which was on the floor directly above 29. Holding his breath, Warren grabbed the key as quietly as humanly possible, clutching it in his palm. The concierge was so preoccupied with their phone call that they didn't even notice Warren. He headed back to the kitchen where the service elevators were, going up to the third floor without being seen or stopped. He wondered if Layla or Honey had called the concierge.

Sliding the key into the lock, Warren turned the key with a small squeak. He looked down the hallway, sure that the noise had been heard, but no one jumped out of the shadows to arrest him. Warren forced himself to breathe, to concentrate, and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as he saw that he was alone and again, no one was waiting in the shadows, Warren moved the bed away from the wall. Several dust mites swirled in the sudden breeze and he winced, wondering when the last time the hotel had been cleaned properly. It was obvious the Mayor wasn't using the hotel to visit important shareholders, or whatever his excuse had been.

Warren set his bag aside and then powered up, keeping the temperature controlled and even across his palms. When he was sure the flames were hot enough, Warren pressed a hand to the dirty carpet, a hole starting to burrow its way into the floor. The carpet had a perfect circle in it within moments, and the thin insulation layer soon followed suit. The concrete below that took longer concentration and an even hotter temperature, the flames around his hand turning blue with intense heat.

Concrete couldn't actually melt, only change its form, so Warren had to stop every few minutes to brush away the rubble, sand, and bits of gravel that remained in the hole he was making. This hole was smaller than the one above it, as he didn't want a huge hole appearing in the ceiling right above the bed, especially if the Mayor was using it.

Blowing away the dirt and rubble carefully, Warren saw a pinprick of light shine through from the hole and immediately went still. He listened intently, hoping he hadn't alerted the Mayor or his mistress to his presence. There were no sounds of surprise, no screams, no sudden scrambling to get off the bed, so Warren continued to make the hole bigger again. When the hole was finally large enough for Ethan's camera to see through it easily - still blurry on the edges, but the bed could be seen below - Warren set it down and waited.

Layla had booked the room for 5pm and it was nearing on that time now. Warren hoped that the Mayor would be punctual; he still had to get to work and Mrs. Woo wouldn't exactly be forgiving if he arrived late because he was planning on blackmailing the Mayor.

At 4:59pm exactly, the key opened the door to the hotel room below. From there, it didn't take long for the Mayor and his mistress to move to the bed. Warren winced at the sight and moans he could hear, but he ensured to take as many incriminating photos as he could before he had to leave, focusing on both the Mayor and his mistress in turn. There was no way he was letting this opportunity go to waste by not showing both people very clearly. If anyone could argue about the validity of the subjects in the photos, then this whole thing would be pointless. When he was satisfied with the pictures, Warren fiddled with the camera to turn over it to video, trying to keep his breathing shallow so it wouldn't be picked up by the camera as well. Warren stopped the video when he was certain that it would be more than enough to blackmail the Mayor.

Taking the camera from the hole he'd created, Warren plugged the hole with a hotel hand washer, then turned the camera off and carefully put it in his bag. He left the room the same way he'd come, heading downstairs quietly and quickly. There was a key return box on the side of the concierge desk, so Warren slipped the key into there and headed out via the staff entrance at the back of the hotel.

Checking the time on his watch, Warren saw that he only had fifteen minutes before his shift started. He continued to walk normally until he was closer to the Paper Lantern than the Plantation and then started to jog over to his work, holding his bag - and the camera - by his side. He arrived to work with two minutes to spare, both Kim and Mrs. Woo in the kitchen already. Warren waved to both of them, heading to the lockers before either could berate or engage him in conversation. He tied his hair back, no longer obscuring his face, donned his apron, and sent off a quick text to Layla: All done. At work now.

He knew that Layla wouldn't see the message until her break later in the evening, but Warren felt a surge of relief flow through him nonetheless. They were finally getting somewhere with their plans.

...

End of the forty-second chapter.

Thanks for reading!