Chapter Fifty Four
Read on, oh faithful ones...
...
Layla waved to Dave as she walked into work with Wendy by her side. They headed to the elevators and up to the Mayor's floor, going over to Layla's desk as Wendy looked around the office space curiously. The office wasn't completely empty yet, and Layla needed it to stay that way for a little while longer.
Picking up her phone handset, Layla pressed an inconspicuous red button the side of the phone panel.
"Hello?" the Commander asked.
"There's trouble on the corner of Fifth and Sycamore," Layla said, hanging up before the Commander could respond.
"That's it?" Wendy asked.
Layla smiled and nodded. "It's not as detailed as some of their calls, but it should be enough. I'm going to put my evening snack away; do you want me to show you the staff kitchen?"
"Yeah, sure," Wendy said, following Layla through the office to the staff tea room.
Layla chatted on blithely, Wendy picking up things curiously. When she had the TV remote control, Wendy turned the volume up to the loudest setting.
"Do you have a vending machine in here? I didn't bring anything," Wendy said.
"There's two down in the foyer," Layla said, heading back to her desk where her phone was ringing. "Hello Dave, this is Layla," she answered, seeing the caller ID.
"Did you just go upstairs with an unauthorised person without signing them in?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dave. Wendy's a friend from school, I didn't even think about getting her to sign in," Layla said, wincing. "I'll send her back down now. Sorry!"
"Next time, make sure she signs in and gets a visitor's badge before going anywhere in the building," Dave said sternly.
"Of course. Thank you, Dave," Layla said, hanging up the phone and looking to Wendy guiltily. "You have to go back to the foyer to sign in as a visitor."
A cloud passed over Wendy's features and she looked as though she was fighting the urge to create a storm outside. "If I miss this..."
"You won't; Dave's got his own TV downstairs. If you're quick, you won't miss a thing," Layla said. "Why not get something from the vending machine while you're there?"
Wendy muttered under her breath, but grabbed her purse from her bag and went back over to the elevators to go down to the foyer.
Adam's final task had seemed simple enough at first glance: post an anonymous message on a black-listed website and monitor the responses. In reality it had been much more difficult: the website was a known forum for villains and therefore frequently monitored by the Super Bureau. An anonymous message posted on the forum put up every red flag possible in the Super Bureau, so checking the responses was fraught with even more danger than posting the original message. Still, Adam had managed it - only just logging out of the site as the Super Bureau logged in - and sent Layla a message stating that the challenge had been answered three times.
Due to [unknown]'s teachings, Adam knew how to encrypt the message when it was accessed by certain IP addresses, and the Super Bureau's IP address was their worst kept secret. After accessing their staff files, Adam was even able to block the Super Bureau's employees from discovering his message from their own homes. Adam knew that they wouldn't dare to access the villains' forum in a public place or with a public Wi-Fi connection, as they'd have their own colleagues coming for them before they managed a single keystroke. Adam couldn't hold back his laughter when he realised that the Super Bureau were running around like headless chickens because of him.
Layla logged onto her computer, opened her emails, and started working. Barely five minutes had passed when the TV blared out an emergency broadcast. Layla hid her smile and followed the curious and confused employees over to the staff tea room.
Wendy came out of the elevators and practically ran over to the tea room, gripping Layla's arm as she caught her breath. "Heard the broadcast in the elevator," she said when someone looked at her oddly.
Brian Anderson appeared on the screen, his makeup protector still around his neck. "Good evening, viewers. It seems that the Commander and Jetstream have to face not one, not two, but three villains. How will our favourite superheroes fare against three evil masterminds?" he asked seriously, turning his attention to the camera feed. There was a second's delay where his makeup artist was seen to step up beside Brian Anderson to finish their job.
The three villains seemed utterly pissed that the other two were there in their spotlight and stealing their fifteen minutes of fame. Divided between them, they'd only have five minutes of fame, and that wasn't enough to cover the cost of their super-suits.
"Steve, do something," Josie hissed when she saw that none of the villains were willing to fight while the others were present.
"Okay... Surrender now, villains!" the Commander called in his most commanding voice.
The idea of surrendering was worse than the other two villains being present, and all three villains glared at the Commander and Jetstream. The first villain lifted his sword, the second lifted a car over her head, and the third held out her hands, though nothing seemed to happen in response to the gesture and her expression fell from fierce to worried in an instant.
"We'll never surrender!" Sword called, glaring.
"Never is such a strong word. We don't know what'll happen; I might surrender," the third said, frowning down at her hands.
Sword turned his glare on her, then looked to the second villain. She shrugged as best as she could while still holding the car.
"Fine. I'll never surrender!" Sword called, swinging their sword as they ran forward, Car and the third villain alongside him.
Sword accidentally swung at the third villain with their sword, the metal bending on impact. Sword let out an anguished cry at the sight, and the third villain stopped to apologise profusely.
Car managed to throw the car at Jetstream, but the Commander was still standing beside his wife (trying to work out what was going on, if the expression on his face was any indication), and he caught the car before it hit her. He threw the vehicle back towards the villains. Car and Sword were both knocked back and unconscious, the third villain skidding to the side and just missing getting hit herself. On realising that she was on her own, the third villain paled and held her fists up shakily.
Jetstream glanced at the cameras for a fraction too long, then back to the third villain. She smiled warmly, her hands falling from her hips. "Are you sure you want to do this? This doesn't have to be how your life goes."
"W-what?"
"I'm offering you a choice: surrender and redeem yourself, or fight us and surrender later," Jetstream said.
"Uh, Jetstream? Dear, what's going on?" the Commander asked under his breath, the cameras still picking up his question clearly.
"Just a moment, dear," Jetstream said, still smiling. Returning her attention to the trembling villain, Jetstream held out a hand. "This isn't what you want. Surrender and come with us to the police," she said.
The third villain's jaw clenched at Jetstream's condescending tone. "Don't. Tell. Me. What. To. Do!" she yelled, running at the two superheroes.
The Commander met her head-on, usually the epitome of a brick wall's blunt force meeting that of a moving object. This time, however, he was knocked aside and thrown over a sale sign for Stronghold Real Estate, crash-landing in a derelict wooden house.
Jetstream didn't have time to check on the Commander as she had the third villain upon her, punching and hitting and screaming. Jetstream grimaced in pain, trying to grab the villain's wrists to stop her blows. As she only managed to capture one wrist, the villain continued to punch her with her free fist.
"Always telling me what to do! Stop telling me what to do!" the third villain yelled, almost incoherent in her anger.
Jetstream finally caught the villain's other wrist, turning the villain around abruptly and not very gently considering the gasp of pain that came from her, clamping a pair of power repressing cuffs on the villain.
"I think you broke my wrist," the villain sobbed.
Jetstream bit back a retort about how she should have surrendered peacefully, realising that the cameras were still focused on them. "There are healers at Maxville Penitentiary; they'll look after you," she said, far too sweetly. "Commander, are you all right?" Jetstream called to her husband, who was standing up in the ruins of the wooden house.
Luckily, the investor who'd bought the house had planned on knocking it down anyway, Josie thought with an inward sigh of relief.
"Fine, dear," the Commander said, brushing the wooden chips and toothpicks off his cape.
"I'm glad to hear it. Would you mind picking up the other two? The police will need to process them as well."
"Oh. Right, of course," the Commander said, jogging over to the unconscious villains and bending to pick them both up, settling one over each of his shoulders.
With the fight over and the heroes leaving with the villains in custody, the cameras turned off. When she was sure that every last camera was off and no longer pointing at them, Josie handed the cuffed villain to her husband and called the police to come collect the three villains. When that was done, Josie tucked the phone away and started pacing.
"Uh, Josie? What's wrong?"
"That was an embarrassment, Steve. Three villains! What if we'd lost?" Josie snapped.
"We didn't lose though," Steve replied.
"We could have," Josie said. "We agreed to not face more than two villains at a time after the Trident Triplets; they almost beat us then, and we could have lost now. It's unacceptable and embarrassing, Steve. I'm going to see the Mayor; I'll pick you up on the way home," she said, leaving before he could respond.
"Okay. I'll just wait here." Steve brightened up on seeing that the Paper Lantern was further up the road. "Well, neither you nor Will like Chinese food, but that doesn't mean I can't have it," he murmured to himself, adjusting the villains on his shoulders and hoping the police would arrive soon.
The police arrived a few moments later, and shook the Commander's hand gratefully after he'd loaded the three villains into the back of their squad car. As per usual, the Commander was allowed to keep a trophy - Sword's sword, still bent for now - and the police officers talked with him for a while, obviously not realising their beloved superhero was kind of starving after his fight.
Steve's stomach was rumbling by the time the police realised they had a job to do and decided to leave back to their precinct. Steve came close to pushing the police car down the road just so he could get something to eat that much faster.
Stepping behind a tree to change into his citizen's outfit and hide the villain's sword, Steve smoothed out his shirt as he headed up to the Paper Lantern. In his eagerness, he forgot to put his glasses on.
...
Jetstream flew into the Council building, ignoring the surprised gasps from several people in the lobby. Flying to the stairwell, she opened the door and flew straight up to the top floor where the Mayor's office was located.
Unable to calm herself long enough to walk to the Mayor's office, Jetstream continued flying straight on from the stairwell. Her fast reflexes were the only reason she stopped abruptly at the office door, someone coming out and stopping sharply as well at her sudden appearance.
"Good afternoon, Jetstream. I saw you've had a busy afternoon. Would you like me to get the Mayor for you?" Layla asked, recovering from her surprise and stepping around Jetstream to get to her computer.
"No need, La- uh, Miss," Jetstream corrected, realising that no one else knew that she knew Layla. "I'm sure he's already been alerted to the fact that I'm here," she added, a little sourly.
"Well, that's true, but the Mayor is currently on a call. Would you like me to schedule you in?" Layla asked.
"Schedule..." Jetstream echoed, a thoughtful expression on her face. "That could work," she muttered to herself, then knocked on the Mayor's door firmly, ignoring Layla's feeble protest. "Mr. Mayor, it's Jetstream; we need to talk."
"N-no. I'm busy right now," the Mayor added quickly, even as Jetstream opened his door. "You can make an appointment with Layla; she's very good at organising things for me."
"You're holding the phone upside down, Hank," Jetstream muttered, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her.
Layla held back her laughter at Jetstream's expression and the Mayor caving so quickly. She didn't dare look over her shoulder to where Wendy was sitting in the staff area, knowing that she wouldn't be able to keep a straight face when Jetstream finally left the Mayor's office. Instead, she concentrated on her work to stay occupied and calm.
What felt like a minute later, Layla's vines squeezed slightly to redirect her attention. She looked up to see the Mayor's door opening and, according to her computer clock, ten minutes had passed. Jetstream walked out of the office looking much calmer than when she had entered.
"Yes, of course, Jetstream. I will have no trouble organising that for you at all," the Mayor said, hurrying up behind Jetstream to offer his assurances one last time.
"I am counting on it. See you at the next shareholder's dinner, Mr. Mayor," Jetstream said, a thinly veiled threat beneath her words and tone. Then she smiled brightly. "Have a lovely evening, everyone!" she called, waving to the employees who had stayed behind.
There was a smattering of awkward applause and her smile slipped. Jetstream squared her shoulders and flew out the same way she'd come, her mind now preoccupied with several thoughts: she had to pick Steve up on the way home, organise dinner, and somehow stop both Will and Steve from playing with the villain's sharp sword.
"Layla, a word?" the Mayor asked, though it was certainly wasn't a question.
"Of course, Mr. Mayor," she said, saving her work as she stood up to follow him into his office.
The Mayor shut the door behind her and sighed heavily, heading over to his desk chair. "I made a promise to Jetstream that I'm not sure I'll be able to commit to. I don't know how on earth I can organise fights for the Commander and Jetstream to avoid a triple-attack like this evening. The work and pressure that comes with this job is exhausting, you see. It's too much to ask of me on top of all of my other responsibilities," the Mayor said, sighing again.
"I can do it."
"Do what?" the Mayor asked.
"Organise fights for the Commander and Jetstream. I can set up a separate email address so it won't interfere with my work as your PA. There's a way of letting the villains know to email me, isn't there?"
The Mayor sat back, a little surprised at the idea. He'd mostly wanted to complain about the additional task, but if Layla was willing to take it on board, then that was certainly no skin off his nose! He just... wouldn't tell Jetstream, who had made it very clear that she expected him to deal with it personally. The job was beneath him, anyway.
"Uh. Yes, there is. Why don't you go and organise that email address? Let me know when it's done and I'll contact the right people," he said, smiling.
Layla nodded and headed back to her desk. She had barely sat down before the Mayor was walking out of his office, closing and locking the door behind him.
"Since you've got that under control, Layla, I'll be heading off for the day. Just send me the information and I'll deal with it tomorrow morning," he said over his shoulder as he headed to the elevators.
"If that's the way our local government works, I'm both disappointed and depressed," Wendy muttered as she came up behind Layla, crunching her way through a packet of chips loudly. "Not surprised, for the most part," she added with a shrug, licking salt off her fingertips before eating another chip.
Layla grinned. "Don't ask how I got this job."
Wendy snorted, almost choking on the chip. "All right. How much longer are we here for anyway?"
Looking to the computer's clock, Layla winced. "Another hour and a half. The Mayor left later than usual."
"So what do you usually do around here when everyone's gone?" Wendy asked.
"My job. People will notice if I don't answer emails or organise the Mayor's appointments."
"Hmm, all right. You do that; I'm going to watch TV."
"You could practice," Layla replied.
"In here?" Wendy asked, frowning at the office space around them.
"Not exactly. There's a storm forecast for tonight," Layla said, nodding to the windows where dark storm clouds could be seen gathering in the distance. "Or you could do your homework?" she suggested with a grin, already knowing what Wendy would pick.
"Tough choice," Wendy deadpanned, rolling her eyes. She finished off the last of her chips, threw the empty packet away, and then sat by the office window to concentrate on the oncoming storm.
...
After collecting his dinner, Steve had returned to his previous spot to retrieve Sword's sword from behind the tree. He had straightened the sword with a small amount of difficulty - he wondered what the third villain's power actually was for her to have bent the metal so easily. Now that he and Josie were flying home, Steve only refrained from swinging the sword around because he was 95% certain that Josie would drop him and 5% positive that he'd drop his food.
"You blew your cover, Steve. And you know the reason we don't have Chinese food is because you're gassy for days afterwards," Josie hissed down at her husband.
"I thought it was because you get bloated and gas - uh, never mind," Steve said quickly. "I'll eat it in the garage so the smell doesn't bother you."
Josie sighed and flew down into their neighbourhood, dropping Steve by their garage door. "If you pass gas anywhere other than the bathroom in the next two days, you'll be sleeping in the sanctum," she threatened.
"Yes, dear."
...
"The storm looks lovely, dear. I hope you've left some in reserve?" Frieda asked Wendy as she and Layla slid into the backseat of her car.
"Not as much as I probably should have," Wendy admitted.
"A good night's rest will do you the world of good then," Frieda said with a smile, reversing out of her parking spot and heading out onto the road. "How was your night, Layla dear?"
"Very productive. I now have the extra job of organising fights between the Commander and Jetstream and villains."
"I hope you're getting a pay rise for that extra job?" Frieda asked.
"I didn't even think to ask about it," Layla said.
"Hmm. You'd best organise that sooner rather than later. Imagine the super world falling to a mess because you couldn't organise an appointment in time."
"That sounds like blackmail, Frieda," Wendy said, snickering.
"It's supposed to sound more subtle than that, but that's about the gist of it. You do still have Communication Skills up at that school, don't you?"
"Yes, though I doubt that's what they had in mind when creating the subject," Wendy said with a laugh.
"Never restrict yourselves to what others have in mind. You're both better than that," Frieda said firmly.
With both Layla and Wendy feeling a little stunned at Frieda's intensity, the car was silent for a moment. Overhead, thunder rolled and lightning streaked through the sky.
"Was that one you, dear, or just the weather?"
"Oh, just the weather. If I manipulate it anymore, it's going to go beyond what the weather stations predicted," Wendy said, looking up to the purplish clouds.
"How far beyond it?" Layla asked curiously.
"Well, I can't quite work up a supercell yet, but I can manage a few larger cells separately. If I've got enough energy after that and I push them the right way, they should theoretically combine to create a supercell. But, yeah, it really depends on my energy levels, and I'm still not at my full strength yet," Wendy said, shrugging. "I'll get there one day."
"All right, here we are. Would you both like something for to eat?" Frieda asked as she pulled up into her driveway.
"I'm fine, thank you," Layla said, unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her bag.
"Same, thank you, Frieda," Wendy said, getting out of the car and following Layla up to the house.
Layla opened the front door, turning the foyer light on and waiting for Frieda to join them. "Thank you for picking us up, Frieda. Have a good night," she said, kissing her cheek before heading upstairs.
"Good night, Frieda," Wendy said, hugging her before following Layla upstairs.
"Good night, girls. Don't stay up too late," Frieda called after them, closing and locking the door behind her, heading into the lounge room to continue with her knitting.
As soon as the bedroom door was closed behind them, Wendy turned to Layla. "Would you tell me what you're planning with Magenta? The suspense is killing me," she groaned.
"It's Will's birthday next month," Layla said, smiling as she detailed her plan.
Wendy was cackling long before Layla had finished explaining, and wiped at her tears before she responding. "You realise that Warren needs to be involved in this as well, right?"
"How do you mean?" Layla asked, frowning.
"Well, if you're going to do all of that to Magenta, you'll need someone coming in at Will's side to reinforce it all. Will considered Warren to be his best friend, right?"
"Yes, but that was before Warren punched him in the cafeteria."
Wendy waved her comment off dismissively. "Just say it's a guy thing; Will seems stupid enough to believe that. Besides, if they were best friends after one fight in the cafeteria, they can be best friends again after two."
"It would help things. I don't know that Ethan or Zach would be up to it, really. Will and Zach were friends before Sky High, but Zach's practically told Will to his face that he'd never forgive him, and Will would take that seriously."
"Let's work out the full plan first, make sure there's no kinks, then you can tell Warren about it tomorrow. He might have some ideas for Will then, too," Wendy suggested, unzipping her bag to find a notepad and pen. "What?" she said at Layla's surprised expression.
"Nothing. I just thought you'd use a laptop," Layla said, shrugging.
"I do for most things, but I didn't bring my gloves and my spare set's at home. If you want me to fry your computer..." Wendy trailed off.
"No, thank you. The pen and paper will be fine," Layla reassured her quickly.
Wendy grinned and flipped to a blank page. "All right, hit me with it."
...
"Why do you two look like you could sleep all day and still wake up tired?" Craig asked, poking Wendy's bicep.
"Shut up. Too early," she mumbled, her hands wrapped around a travel coffee mug.
"Don't," Layla warned when Craig looked over to her, then sipped at her own travel mug of tea and silently hoped it was strong enough to wake her up.
Craig held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I wasn't going to do anything," he said, adding the ASL gestures.
"You've been practising, Craig. Well done," their instructor said with a warm smile.
"Thanks! I've been Skyping with my friend's little sister too."
"Aw, you consider me a friend? I'm honoured," Zach said, hugging Craig around the shoulders.
"Idiot," Craig said with a laugh, pushing him away. "C'mon, let's get this thing started."
"Oh, I've left the worksheets behind. I'm a scatterbrain this morning! I'll be right back," their instructor said, leaving the room just as Adam and Warren arrived.
"Sorry we're late; I overslept and didn't get the coffee ready on time," Adam said, practically guiding Warren into the classroom.
"What happened to you?" Ethan asked, curious enough to risk Warren's wrath.
"Long shift at the Paper Lantern; didn't get home until after midnight," Warren said, yawning widely and resting his head on the desk.
Donny sent a quick text to Honey, who replied a moment later. With a grin, Donny reached over his desk and flicked both Layla and Warren on the ears. "Wake up!"
Layla winced, rubbing her ear. She sighed and then inhaled deeply, making her vines take her exhaustion. It wasn't a complete fix, and she knew that it would only increase her exhaustion later, but it would be enough to get through the class.
Warren muttered obscenities under his breath, rubbing his ear. Realising what Layla had done, he did the same thing, cocooning his exhaustion behind a wall of flames. The flames would lessen eventually and the exhaustion would hit him harder than it felt now, but Warren hoped he would be home and in bed by that time.
"Ugh, what did you two just do? I want that," Wendy groaned, her head resting in the crook of her arm as she tried to gather the will and energy to glare at them.
"We blocked our exhaustion temporarily with our power."
"How?" Wendy asked in confusion; both of their powers were external things as far as she knew, and it didn't make sense.
Donny received another text. "Breathe in."
"I haven't exactly stopped breathing in the last five minutes, Donny," Wendy pointed out.
He rolled his eyes at her. "Breathe in on purpose. Use your power."
It sounded stupid, but Wendy figured it couldn't hurt. Hell, if the coffee wasn't waking her up, then 'purposely breathing' might do something. Gathering her power, Wendy felt the wind pick up, papers fluttering on the desks around her. Inhaling deeply, Wendy could feel the change in the air as she drew her power into herself, the wind dissipating and blocking her exhaustion for the moment. Exhaling carefully, Wendy blinked and licked her lips.
"We just did that, but internally," Layla said. "It won't last the whole day."
"That's fine. You'll tell me how to do it internally, right?"
"Sure, we can do that."
Wendy smiled at them, then at Donny. "Thanks."
He grinned, winked, and said 'you're welcome' with the ASL hand gesture.
"All right. Sorry about the delay. Here are your worksheets for today," their instructor announced, entering the room with a bundle of papers tucked against their chest.
...
On the bus ride to the Hive, Layla felt her vines shrinking and her exhaustion returning slowly. Beside her, Warren looked like he was being affected as well, his head dropping to his chest every now and then. Towards the middle of the bus, Wendy had already fallen asleep against Donny's shoulder.
"Thank you for dropping us off closer, sir," Ethan said, helping the others guide Warren, Layla, and Wendy off the bus carefully.
"Not a problem. If you've got any of that fresh honey, my wife 'n I'd love to try it," the bus driver said eagerly.
"We'll see how the bees are going," Craig replied, the driver grinning and waving in thanks before pulling back onto the road.
"How long do you think it'll be before he realises we're lying about the bees?" Adam asked, holding Layla carefully.
"However long it usually takes for bees to make honey, probably," Zach said, trying to keep Warren upright.
"I can melt them all down. Does anyone have a water bottle to carry them in?" Ethan asked.
"Wendy and Layla have travel mugs?" Donny suggested, adjusting his grip on Wendy.
"That should work," Ethan said with a nod, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Holding onto Layla and Warren's arms, Ethan melted down along with them, sliding over towards the empty travel mug that Zach put on the ground. He reformed and then did the same with Wendy, keeping them together in the same mug. Zach picked it up carefully, placing the lid on - the last thing he wanted was for their friends to lose fingers or limbs because he'd splashed them out of the travel mug.
"Let's just hope I can reform them all properly," Ethan said as they headed towards the Hive.
"Seriously? Dude, are you joking?" Craig asked, a little horrified at the thought.
Ethan's serious face lasted another three seconds before he grinned outright. "Don't worry, I'm joking. The worst that could happen is I reform them in each other's clothes. The molecules of their bodies are different and that's the easiest part to recognise. Clothes are far too similar, but I should be fine."
"Okay, your sense of humour is twisted and perverted, and normally I'm a huge fan of both of those things. But right now, I seriously hate you. Don't scare me like that," Craig muttered.
Zach snorted and put an arm around Ethan's shoulders. "Don't worry, Eth, I still love you."
Ethan grinned. "I know."
When they reached the Hive, Ethan reformed their friends and left them sleeping in their own rooms within the lower Hive. Craig ensured that they'd all been reformed with the right number of fingers and limbs, and the correct colour hair, then followed the rest of the group to the training area.
...
"'Lo?" Warren answered his phone sleepily. He sat up straight at Mrs. Woo's response, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he answered her in Cantonese.
Satisfied with his answer, Mrs. Woo ended the call.
"Warren? What's going on?" Layla asked, reaching out for him.
"Ronnie's called in sick, so I have to cover his shift. It was his 21st yesterday, so I'm pretty sure 'sick' is code for hungover and/or still drunk," Warren said, rolling his eyes as he stood up to find his jeans.
"His shift starts at 6am?" Layla asked, frowning at the time.
"Uh, no. Shit," Warren groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry, hippie. I'll set my alarm, you go back to sleep."
"Mm-kay," she murmured sleepily, closing her eyes again.
Setting an alarm for eight o'clock, Warren settled back into bed, curling an arm around Layla's back. She sighed contently, pressed a gentle kiss to his throat, then fell back to sleep. Warren followed her into sleep easily enough.
What felt like minutes later, his alarm went off loudly, waking them both up with Layla almost head-butting Warren in the chin. He moved back abruptly to avoid being smacked, and fell off the bed instead.
"I'm up, geez," Warren groaned, lying on the floor for a moment and glaring up at the ceiling.
Layla reached over to pull him back up onto the bed. "You okay?"
"I'll live. It'll be a painful life though," he muttered, rubbing his back. "Did I dream that Mrs. Woo called me at 6am?"
Layla shook her head. "No, I remember that too. Ronnie's 21st was yesterday?"
"Right. Shit. I was hoping for at least half the day off," Warren muttered.
"I'll go organise breakfast for us while you get ready for work," Layla offered, pressing a light kiss to his lips.
Warren grinned and kissed Layla deeply, his hands hot on her hips as her own fingers curled into his shoulders. "Thanks, hippie."
Seeing that she was a little dazed by their kiss, Warren kissed her once more, then headed to the ensuite to get showered and ready.
Layla licked her lips, smiling. Heading down to the kitchen, Layla saw that Frieda was already downstairs and working on her knitting. "Morning, Frieda."
"Good morning, Layla. You look bright and chirpy for a Sunday morning."
"Thank you, I had a good sleep. Well, Warren's phone woke me up early, but I fell asleep again, so it was all right. Do we have any orange juice left?" she asked as she set up the coffee machine for Warren's favoured drink.
"On the door, dear. Is everything all right with Warren?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Mrs. Woo called him about taking Ronnie's shift since he called in sick. Apparently it was Ronnie's 21st yesterday so Warren doubts that Ronnie's sick so much as hungover," Layla said, shrugging then pouring a glass of juice.
"Ronnie didn't invite Warren to his party?" Frieda asked.
Layla stopped, her drink raised halfway to her lips. "I don't know."
"There's still some oats if the pantry if you'd like porridge for breakfast," Frieda offered.
"Oh, thank you. Would you like anything?"
"No, thank you, dear. I've already been up for some time. I'm hoping to get these finished in time, so I've been working on them for about an hour now."
"What are you knitting?" Layla asked curiously, pouring oats and milk into a pot, sprinkling it with some salt, cinnamon and brown sugar, and turning on the heat.
"Warren's birthday's coming up, so I'm knitting a pair of socks for him. Nina's mentioned how often his socks have holes in them, or get completely charred, so I'm trying a new type of wool that should be able to withstand his flames. Young Zach put me onto the idea when we were talking about super suit materials."
"When is Warren's birthday?" Layla asked, surprised to realise that she didn't know herself. She didn't remember Warren celebrating the year before and she hadn't even thought to ask him.
"March 23rd. I know it's only a few weeks away, but the pattern is simple enough and I should get it done in time if the wool behaves," Frieda said determinedly, continuing to knit.
"Could I get a lift to work, please Frieda? Mrs. Woo rang early to ask me to cover for Ronnie," Warren said as he entered the kitchen.
"So I heard. You didn't get invited to Ronnie's party?" Frieda asked, setting her knitting aside.
Warren shook his head. "We're workmates, not friends. He's an asshole anyway."
"Language, Warren."
"Sorry, Frieda."
Frieda looked at him for a long moment as if to determine his sincerity, then relented. "I'll get dressed and take you to work. Have something to eat, not just coffee," she added, taking his knitting basket upstairs with her.
"Porridge okay?" Layla asked, stirring the porridge.
"Sure."
Taking his coffee from the machine, Warren kissed Layla's cheek in thanks.
"I realised this morning that I don't actually know when your birthday is," Layla said, hoping she sounded casual enough that Warren wouldn't question why she was asking; she didn't want to spoil Frieda's surprise.
"March 23rd," Warren replied. "What about yours?" he asked as he sat at the bench.
"June 19th," Layla replied, turning the stove off and taking the pot off the heat, carefully spooning the porridge into two bowls. "Do you want a topping?"
"No, thanks. Do you know the others' birthdays?" Warren asked curiously.
"I know Heidi's is April 1st. Zach was saying how everyone thought his mother was joking when she tried to call them for a lift to the hospital. Zach's is May 1st, and I think Ethan's is sometime in November. I don't know about the others."
"I'll ask Ethan; he'll probably have a chart made up," Warren said, texting Ethan before eating a mouthful of porridge. "This is good."
"Thanks," Layla said with a smile.
"Okay, I'm ready. Shall we take the Mustang or the Rolls?" Frieda asked Warren brightly.
"Which one matches my shoes?" Warren asked, Layla nudging him and laughing.
"Neither, I'm afraid," Frieda said with a laugh. "So it looks like we're taking the Toyota."
"No, wait, the Mustang!"
Frieda shook her head. "Too late, dear. Enjoy your morning, Layla dear; I'll be at the front when you're ready, cutie," she said, kissing Layla's cheek and patting Warren's, ignoring his half-hearted scowl.
Layla laughed and kissed his cheek. "You'll live, cutie."
"No nicknames," he growled, finishing his coffee and the last of his porridge.
When she saw that he'd finished eating, Layla turned Warren's stool so he was facing her, and kissed him deeply.
"Have a nice day at work, Warren."
He stood and kissed her back, Layla's legs bracketing his hips. "Thanks, hippie. What're you doing today?"
"I've got a Mad Science test coming up; we need to create a vat of toxic waste using household chemicals, so I need to work on that. But first, I might have to masturbate and take the edge off. I don't think I'll be able to concentrate otherwise," she murmured, her cheeks red and lips swollen.
"Fuck me," Warren groaned, resting his forehead against hers.
"Only if you ask nicely," Layla quipped, laughing. "Go on, go to work. I'll text you later," she said, kissing him briefly one more time before pushing him gently towards the doorway.
Warren let himself be pushed and let the momentum carry him through the doorway and to the front foyer. Inhaling deeply, he let his power block the emotion, hopefully giving himself enough time to become preoccupied with work instead of his thoughts and imagination.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you: the Commander came by the Paper Lantern the other day. After that fight with the three villains," Warren said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"What did he want?" Layla asked as she rinsed off the porridge and stacked the dishwasher.
"Spring rolls, special fried rice, and sweet and sour pork," Warren said. "I didn't even burn it," he added over his shoulder, grinning.
"I'm very proud of you," Layla said, far too sweetly to be considered real.
Warren laughed and stepped out onto the porch to see Frieda parked patiently on the driveway, sitting in the Mustang. Hurrying down to the car, Warren grinned at Frieda as he opened the passenger door. "Thanks, Frieda."
"Not a problem, cutie."
Warren couldn't even bring himself to scowl at the nickname.
...
End of the fifty-fourth chapter.
Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!
