Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Six
...
"Come in," Bill called at the knock on his office door, bouncing a ball from his hand into an open drawer.
He closed the drawer before the rubber bouncy ball could escape, and looked over as a subordinate opened his door.
"Good afternoon, Mr. - "
"Call me Bill," he interrupted smoothly, smiling broadly and indicating to the seats in front of his desk.
"Yessir. Bill. Um... Agent G has requested your signature on their latest proposal. And feedback on said proposal. And presence at the next meeting," the subordinate said, wincing at the memory of Agent G's screaming.
"Agent G," Bill said, stroking his smooth chin as he mused. "Tall, solid fella? Big thick glasses, always writes his reports in tiny font?"
The subordinate sighed in relief, nodding adamantly.
"Don't know 'im."
"B-but... Mr. - Bill, they... They're threatening your secretary."
"What? Why? What's Charlie ever done to any one of 'em?"
"Avoided their calls and lied on your behalf," Charlie called from their desk, far too cheerful for the sort of establishment they worked in.
People rarely smiled at the Super Bureau and it was even more of a rarity for people to be cheerful. Bill and Charlie were oddities here, and everyone knew it, including Bill and Charlie. However, Bill was a good mentor and always got results, so despite numerous complaints about him, he had stayed employed at the Super Bureau for nearly twenty years. (It was said that several agents had made complaints about Charlie, but they never lasted long after that.)
Bill scoffed. "That ain't nothin', Charlie. You know half of 'em lie their teeth outta their head a'fore breakfast. And as for avoidin', well, that's just to keep the peace and sanity for all involved."
Charlie snickered. The subordinate looked between Bill and the semi-open door, certain that they'd closed it and wondering if they could get into trouble for secretaries overhearing conversations.
"Now, you're subordinate 13, aren't you?" Bill asked.
Returning their attention to Bill and surprised he knew their designation, 13 nodded. "Yes, Bill."
"Heard excellent things about you, 13. You'll have a bright future at the Super Bureau if you want it. Now, don't you worry about old Agent Goat," Bill said with a laugh, the kind of guffawing laugh that made people smile and objects tremble.
13 couldn't stop their grin, but quickly schooled their expression.
"I'll handle Agent G and I'll give 'em all the feedback they ever wanted. You just tell 'em you passed their message along, and head on back to your classes, okay?"
Grateful to be dismissed - and actually grateful to return to classes, of all things - 13 nodded and went to escape.
"Ah, wait a minute, 13. You look like the kinda person who'd appreciate this," Bill said, opening a drawer, taking an object out, and holding his hand out.
Curious, 13 held out their hand, surprised beyond belief when a bouncy ball fell into their palm. "A bouncy ball?"
"Been collecting 'em since I was a young'un. I only give 'em to people I like," Bill said, as though proud of the fact.
Weirdly enough, 13 did feel a swell of pride about that.
"All right, you head on out now. Look forward to seein' you again when you get your letter, 13."
"Thank you, Bill," 13 said, both for the bouncy ball and for the certainty that they would go on to actually get a letter designation instead of remaining a number.
Charlie grinned at 13 as they left Bill's office, bouncy ball still in hand. "I knew you'd get one. He liked you, 13. See you 'round," they added, a subtle dismissal.
Realising they were going to be late - and still had to report to Agent G (don't think about goats) - 13 practically ran out of Bill's office, shoving the bouncy ball in their pocket.
13 told Agent G that Bill would provide feedback as requested, and decided not to mention the bouncy ball. (Agent G did kind of look like a goat; they were going to laugh their ass off about that later.) As they left Agent G, 13 heard an odd sound behind them. It sounded like... a stampede of bouncy balls. Not daring to look, 13 ran.
Up in his office, Bill whistled a jovial tune, a bouncy ball landing in his open drawer.
...
"I've been unsuccessfully trying to get Mrs. Quinton to leave Maxville and Westville ever since she teased my boy about his teeth. What did you do to make her and those dogs go?" Edith asked, looking between the children as Frieda and Connor served up dinner for the seemingly ever-growing crowd of teenagers.
Edith meant growing in number and height; she was sure there were another three children she'd never met, and she was positive that Heidi hadn't been this tall last week!
Layla and Warren frowned and looked around, not knowing what Edith was talking about.
"Justina very kindly asked the dogs to start barking every time the motion-sensored light went off. I then set it off forty times between nine PM and five AM. Mrs. Quinton received a flyer from Daisy about selling her house the next day. I think three days was enough to convince her to leave," Adam said.
"The dogs are fine; they took turns at barking," Justina added, one of the newer children and one of the taller ones.
"Speaking of Daisy, your lease is coming to an end. Offer ten thousand lower; she'll be desperate to sell and take it," Honey said as Connor passed her plate to her.
Victor was distracted from feeding Elijah and looked over. "You're buying Mrs. Quinton's house?"
"No, you both are."
"What? Honey, you can't - " Victor said.
"I didn't do anything; it was all Adam's idea - " Honey interrupted.
"Like I'm letting that old bitch stay anywhere near my bestie," Adam said, grinning at Craig who was feeding Elliot.
"Love you, too," Craig said, blowing him a kiss.
" - and the timing was just too good to pass up. You've always loved Mrs. Quinton's house," Honey said with a shrug.
"Yeah, because it has those window seats and an actual office space, but that... that doesn't mean I wanted to buy it! She had sex in that house," Victor hissed, cheeks bright red.
"Ewww."
"I'll sanitise it for you. Hospital-grade antibacterial acid. What's higher than hospital-grade?" Adam asked, frowning.
"Pharmaceutical level?" Connor suggested, thinking of how pristine the labs were.
"NASA-level?" Terrence suggested.
"Apple sanitary level?" Ethan offered.
"NASA would be cleaner than Apple," Terrence said.
"Apple's testing conditions were so sterile their phones didn't cope in the real world!"
"Whatever. One of those. It'll be so clean you won't even remember she lived there, dude," Adam said, even as Ethan and Terrence continued to argue over which was cleaner.
"Oh, and the house has room for a gym," Honey said, smirking when both Connor and Victor blushed.
"Why is that important?" Robin asked, frowning.
"They got kicked out of the gym for making out instead of working out," Donny said with a laugh. "Ah, Super Jesus, bad mental images," he said with a wince.
"We can talk about the house after food, good, darling?" Connor asked, his cheeks adorably pink.
Victor nodded, squeezing Connor's hand as he sat beside him.
"Oh, that reminds me. There's a betting pool for those two, isn't there? Put me down for two weeks," Yuki said, laughing when Victor groaned.
Remembering Honey's comment about how Yuki would win the bet, Connor smiled and ate his food, still holding Victor's hand.
...
"Warren?"
"Mm?"
They were on Warren's bed, Warren's head in Layla's lap as she lazily braided his hair in small sections, flowers growing between the strands. He was relaxed and happy, his eyes closing with every gentle stroke of Layla's fingers.
"Your father's birthday is in three weeks - "
Warren's eyes shot open. "Hippie - "
"I'm not finished, Warren. Please hear me out."
"All right. Let me sit up for this," he groaned, sitting up and facing her.
Layla couldn't help but laugh at the hundreds of braids and small flowers sticking up. "Let me undo those first. You look gorgeous," she added, kissing him gently.
Warren waited patiently as Layla undid the braids, the flowers disappearing. When she was finished, Layla sat back and smiled, trying not to feel too guilty for disturbing Warren's peace.
"C'mon, hippie, just ask me already."
"I want to go with you to Maxville Super Penitentiary. Inside to meet your father this time," she added.
Warren struggled with his emotions for a moment, trying not to immediately refuse. His father would still have the same ability to reduce someone down to their base fears and most primal emotions, just as he always did. It was the reason it had taken the Commander and Jetstream so long to capture him, in fact. Warren was fairly certain they only caught him because they'd worn ear plugs.
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Warren looked at his girlfriend's hopeful face. He couldn't say no to her, not without knowing the reason, so he simply asked, "Why?"
"Because I want to kill him."
Warren stared at her. Whatever he had expected her to say, it sure as fuck wasn't that. Silence reigned for so long that Layla actually looked worried and waved a hand in front of his face. Warren blinked and shook his head. "You want to kill my father," he echoed.
Layla nodded. "Yes. Well, I'd like to try. We both know we can use our powers while cuffed, so I want to see what I can do to him in prison. He's got multiple lives to live, so it won't really do anything bad."
"Why didn't you ask me at some other time? You know I'd practically agree to anything after sex, right?"
"I know; that's why I didn't. You wouldn't be thinking clearly, and it wouldn't be fair. Besides, it's totally manipulative and I'm trying not to do that anymore. Well, not to you," Layla amended with a brief smile.
Warren snorted at the clarification then shook his head. "You realise there are power suppressors and we both have to wear cuffs, right? Plus, there's like a hundred cameras in the room, and since my father hasn't technically admitted to anything, the cameras are super sensitive to make sure if he does admit to something, it'll be recorded and he'll get another life added to his sentence before the end of the day."
Layla frowned. "Are the cameras there all the time or just for your meetings?"
"Just for the meetings. What are you thinking, hippie?"
"I don't know yet. That's why I asked three weeks in advance, it gives us time to plan. If you let me go with you. And this is the only time I'll actually refer to you letting me do anything," Layla said with a grimace of distaste.
"What if I let you cum?" Warren asked, grinning broadly.
"That's... don't try to distract me with orgasms, Warren," she said, a warning in her tone.
"I'd never. You're the one offering to kill my father, of course I'm all hot and bothered," Warren said, tugging Layla against his chest and kissing her firmly, his hot hands slipping under her shirt.
Layla was surprised at the truth in his words, the feelings she felt on her wrist of desire and love and something that she was starting to recognise as how did I get so lucky?
Two orgasms later, Layla and Warren were lying on his bed once more, Warren's head in her lap for a very different reason. Layla laughed suddenly, Warren looking up at her curiously. She grinned and ran her fingers through his hair. "I should have offered to kill him ages ago."
Warren huffed a laugh against her thigh then returned to the very important task of getting Layla off for a third time.
...
"Mum?" Will asked, his voice barely a croak, but his mother looked over instantly.
"Yes, Will? Are you all right? Can I get anything for you? Food? Water? Some more bruising cream? I think we still have aloe vera gel somewhere."
Will shook his head and wished she would just stop talking so he could actually answer. Eventually she tapered off and Will asked, "Did you thank Mrs. Morton?"
Josie's expression went cold in a second and she turned away sharply. "I tried to. She was busy and not exactly welcoming."
Seeing the ruined state of the gift basket on the kitchen bench, Will didn't dare ask further. Obviously Mrs. Morton had ignored his mother and his mother had attacked her with the basket. No wonder Chad wanted to sue him. He wouldn't be surprised if Pad threatened to sue him, too!
Will groaned and then stopped abruptly because that hurt.
"Oh, it's all right, Will. It isn't the end of the world just because someone doesn't like me," Josie said, misunderstanding the meaning of his groan. She started chopping something fiercely on the chopping board and Will was certain the counter would have split if she had super strength. "I'll make it up to her. Handmade foods are always more personal than store bought."
Will walked upstairs to bury his head in his pillow.
...
"You want detention? Am I hearing this right?" Craig asked, looking between Warren and Layla like they were crazy.
"We want to see what it's like to be in a room with power suppressors. If we just get sent to Principal Powers' office, then it won't be long enough."
"I could just let you in, y'know. Getting the door open from the outside isn't exactly hard," Adam said, putting his pen behind his ear as he picked up his phone. "When and how long for?" he asked.
"Wednesday; we've got study hall at the end of the day, so we can spend a few hours in there before Mr. Bowie's language class," Layla said.
"Aren't the cuffs enough?" Zach asked, frowning.
"Yeah, why aren't you doing those?"
"We are. At the same time as the detention room," Layla said.
"What the hell are you two planning?" Wendy asked, looking between them.
"Oh, really? Can I tell them?" Donny asked with a broad grin.
"No. We want to test this first. Layla hasn't experienced the power suppressors like I have," Warren said.
"Let us test it before you say anything," Layla added.
Donny groaned. "Fine. I'm going into the forest," he said, leaving out the Hive's back door.
"Why does he always go in there?" Craig asked Wendy curiously.
"Says the trees calm him," Wendy said with a shrug.
"He's also hiding weapons among the trees."
Everyone looked at Ethan.
"What? I happened to find a knife while I was walking and wondered why it was in a tree. Donny heard my thoughts and answered."
Everyone processed the explanation with varying degrees of surprise.
Adam shrugged and returned to his phone. "That just means I've got another escape plan."
"Can you add them to the map, Eth?" Warren asked.
"I already did. Haven't you looked at the update?"
"When did you update it?" Robin asked, Justina and Terrence both going for their phones.
"Last week. Honestly, I'm going to have to add phone updates to the timetable, aren't I?" Ethan asked, shaking his head.
"I always forget to check."
"I've got an app on my phone that I haven't updated since 2004," Craig snickered.
"You only just got that phone, don't lie," Adam said distractedly.
"We're going to train; anyone want to join us?" Layla asked, Warren standing beside her.
"I've got to go over the plans and designs for Fashion Week. I'm having trouble trying to work out where to put the chartreuse line: after the lemon or before the olive?"
"You talking fashion or food, dude?" Craig asked.
"Why not between them?" Ry suggested.
"Because that throws off the white and beige," Zach murmured, taking the folder that Ethan produced and offered. "Thanks, Eth. See, this is what I've got so far."
"C'mon, hippie, I still want to train. They'll be here all night; we can check on their progress later," Warren said.
Knowing it was true - Zach had spent the last week unsuccessfully trying to plan for Maxville Fashion Week - Layla nodded and went to the lower hive with Warren to train.
They were starting to improve with their full powers, not stopping when they simply thought they should. Previous experience had taught them that doing too much led to burn out and they instinctively stopped when reaching the crucial tipping point. Now, with their determination and focus, Layla could create dense forests filled with hundreds of varieties of trees in a second flat and Warren could burn for hours. Layla was still working on creating a manchineel tree, trying to overcome her own mental limitations telling her she couldn't make something so deadly and advanced. So far, she had managed the leaves and poisonous berries, but still hadn't finalised the bark.
"How are you planning on testing it once you've finished?" Warren asked curiously, flowers blooming within his flames.
"I haven't thought that far ahead. I'm just trying to get the bark right first. It doesn't feel the same as the one you bought me, so I can tell that way, at least. I might ask Honey for help with testing it; she might have an idea of what I can do."
"Your fire's getting smaller, hippie. Add a bit more heat," he said, watching as the fire she was controlling reached higher towards the roof. "Nice control."
"Thank you," Layla said with a smile, taking his burning hand in her own, continuing with the manchineel tree and fire.
"This is a friendly reminder that the training arena is a safe space."
"Adam, what the fuck? We weren't even doing anything!" Warren said.
"You were thinking about it. Do I have to get the spritz bottle?" Adam threatened.
Layla laughed, drawing Warren close to kiss him. "I think he's got the right idea, hottie. Let's go to our room," she said against his lips, flames licking against her clothes and starting to burn the material.
Warren pulled away and saw what was happening to her clothes, drawing the heat away instantly and leaving charred patches across her outfit. "We need to find materials that can withstand both of our flames," he muttered. "But first, I completely agree. Come on, before we get them all started on another super suit discussion," Warren said, powering down and picking Layla up over his shoulder.
"Warren!"
"What? You're the one that wanted me to do the fire cadet training, remember?" he pointed out, heading out of the training arena to their room.
Layla grinned at the sight of Warren's ass in his jeans. "I didn't think you were allowed to use this hold."
"We're not. It's impractical for carrying people, but no one said anything about carrying my girlfriend off to - "
"I can still hear you!"
"That's not our fault, Ace. We've almost reached our room, so you'd better switch off," Warren said, grinning. He reached their room and set Layla down, frowning at the sight of her red face. "Okay, hippie?"
"A little dizzy. Not that I didn't appreciate the view, but all the blood went to my head," Layla admitted, scrunching up her nose and looking so damn cute that Warren couldn't stop himself from kissing her.
"Better?"
"Better. I hope you're not going to do that with all the citizens you rescue," Layla said teasingly.
Warren snorted. "They'll be lucky if I don't just leave them there."
"My hero," Layla said, tying her hair up with a vine before wrapping her arms around Warren's shoulders and kissing him senseless.
Warren powered up without thinking and the last of Layla's clothes burned away, scraps and ash falling to the ground below them. His own shirt and jeans were the next victim of his power, though Warren didn't care that they were his favourite jeans at that point. All that mattered was Layla's breathless gasp, her body pressed against his, the wetness and heat he could feel as he slipped his fingers between her legs, the moans that he could tease and caress out of her. Warren kicked off his leather boots, the laces burnt away already, and guided Layla back onto their bed.
"Okay, hippie?" he asked as he pulled a condom out from the side table, withdrawing the heat from his fingers so he wouldn't melt it.
"Okay," Layla said, sitting up on her elbows as she watched Warren roll the condom on his hard cock. "You owe me a new bra. And underwear. And clothes."
"Buy whatever you want, hippie. I think I've got enough money to spend on clothes for you."
"Good; I'll send you the bill," she said teasingly, drawing him onto the bed beside her, kissing him gently. "I want to go back to the Sweet Spot, too. I think I want the other corset I didn't buy."
"The one for me?" Warren asked breathlessly, the memory of leather against his skin, the desire in Layla's eyes, the way it had felt to have his body practically framed for her.
"Well, if you want that one, yeah. But I was talking about the red and black one. I know you liked that one, too," Layla said, biting her lip as she stroked his ribs, travelling down over his hip, fingertips skating close to his groin before she tucked a hand behind his knee, bringing his leg over hers.
"I like you wearing anything, hippie. Or nothing," Warren added with the warm and broad grin that always stole Layla's breath away. "Can I fuck you now? Please?"
"Clit first, please."
Warren buried his head against the curve of her neck, groaning against her skin. "You're killing me."
"You love it," Layla said, grinning.
"I love you."
Layla tugged his ear gently, guiding his face over so she could kiss him, licking and biting into his mouth firmly. "I love you, too. Now, my clit."
"Anything you want, hippie," Warren said, slipping a hand between her legs, stroking along her folds before rolling her clit between his fingers.
As Warren worked at her clit, Layla stroked his body, scoring lines down his back. Warren groaned against her lips, his fingers rolling and rubbing and pressing against her. Layla drew him in for kiss after kiss, their breath heavy between them and their chests heaving. Warren watched her with dark eyes, her wrist swirling with emotions that became harder to decipher the more he teased at her clit and her brain became occupied with her impending orgasm.
Layla clutched Warren's shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin, and kissed him again. Their previous kisses had been slow and luxurious or hurried and desperate, but this one was demanding and begging all at the same time. Layla drew Warren's tongue into her mouth, teasing at him for a moment before biting firmly. She writhed and ground her hips down, desperate to get more of Warren's touch.
"Fuck me now."
Warren didn't argue or protest. He grabbed his aching dick, guided it to Layla's pussy, so wet and encompassing, and pressed into her slowly. He hadn't stretched her so Warren tried to take his time before pulling back and thrusting inside slowly. Layla made a noise, somewhere between frustration and desperation, moving until Warren was on his back and Layla was on top of him, her hands on his chest as she lifted her hips and ground back down onto his aching dick.
"Fuck."
"That's... what... you were... meant to do," Layla said, words difficult and her chest heaving. "Clit. Please. Don't stop. Fuck, fuck, don't... don't you... dare stop!"
Warren rubbed at her clit hard, rolling the nub between his fingers and trying hard not to cum before she said so. A blush was blooming across Layla's chest, red spreading until it was dark and covering her from shoulder to shoulder. Sweat started to bead and form on Layla's face, her chest shining, and Warren thought she looked beautiful. He kept rubbing and pressing her clit, then grabbed one of her bouncing breasts and did the same pattern against her pink pebbled nipple. His hot fingers against both her clit and nipple helped tip Layla over the edge, her scream of pleasure ringing in his ears.
Layla collapsed against Warren's chest, breathing heavily and sweating. She came back to herself to find Warren stroking long lines against her spine, his other hand splayed across the small of her back. Wrapping her arms around him, pressing her breasts against his chest, Layla kissed his neck. "You can cum now."
"Thank fuck," Warren groaned, pressing Layla up against the wall and fucking up into her hard.
In a matter of minutes, Layla's second orgasm was fast on the heels of Warren's own orgasm. His groan was heavy and deep as he filled the condom, one of his hands on her hip with the other on her breast.
"Fuck, hippie. You riding me like that is going to be my new wank material."
"You didn't fuck me fast enough," Layla said, no heat in her admonishment.
"Still got you off," Warren said, then grinned, broad and mischievous. "I knew which buttons to press."
Layla stared at her boyfriend for a moment - he was really comparing her clit and nipple to buttons?! - then burst out laughing, her hands covering her face. "That was awful. I shouldn't have let you cum for that."
Warren laughed and pulled her against his chest, kissing her and swallowing her laughter. "You love it."
"I love you," she replied and then shook her head. "You're a dork, sometimes," Layla said, kissing him and grinning. "Let me up, I need to pee," she added, patting his chest and wincing at the sweaty feeling.
"I'll get something to clean us up with; do we have any spare clothes?" Warren asked, looking to the wooden drawers on the other side of their room.
"I put some in the drawers last week," Layla said, slipping a bathrobe around her shoulders and tying it off so she could go to the bathroom across the hallway. "I'll bring a towel back from the bathroom."
"Thanks, hippie," Warren said, standing to get some light clothes out of the drawers for them.
Layla returned a few minutes later, a warm damp towel in her hand, and pressed a kiss to Warren's jaw as he cleaned up. "I'll be the big spoon tonight, okay?" she said as she took off her robe. Feeling a stirring of desire from her wrist, Layla grinned and led Warren to the bed, ignoring their clothes.
"Okay," Warren said, settling in her embrace, their bodies warm enough to stave off any coolness from the room around them.
Warren sighed in contentment as Layla wrapped an arm around his torso. She kissed his shoulder blade and Warren held her hand, drifting off to sleep in her arms.
...
Layla stood in front of a sprawling metropolis, power and vines rippling under her skin. In her dream there were no limitations, no worries or concerns, because everything made sense. She knew what she had to do and she knew she could do it. A thought had a seed sprouting, a green shoot appearing above the ground a moment later. It continued to grow until a full tree was in front of her, the manchineel tree created with its deadly bark and leaves and berries. It was finally right.
Knowing that it would never hurt her, Layla started a fire to see how the tree would respond to her flames. She watched as the bark burned, deadly smoke curling out from the tree and joining the fire.
"Super fucking Jesus! Layla, wake up!"
Her mind still dreaming, and her focus on her tree and flames, Layla didn't hear the shouted words from her friends in the arena. Wendy pushed a gust of wind towards Layla, keeping the flames and deadly smoke as far away from them as possible.
"Craig, get us through a wall to escape!"
Larry's rock formation was in the arena a moment later, and he punched the wall. Everyone escaped through the hole, Craig included, and he hurried to block it up again using Layla's power.
"Someone go get Warren. He'll get through to Layla," Donny said, Ethan promptly melting down and sliding away.
"He might be able to stand the flames, but what about the death tree?" Zach asked.
"I can make it rain and put out the flames," Wendy said, looking at the cloud of smoke forming on the training arena's ceiling.
"Bad idea. I don't remember why, but I know that's a bad idea," Craig said.
"The tree makes it rain acid when it rains, or something like that. Just wait until Warren gets here," Zach said, trying to be practical instead of hysterical.
"He can't be here all the time. What if Layla does this again and we're all dead?"
"Calm down, I'm here," Warren said, his voice rough with sleep, Ethan popping up beside him.
"Do you gotta be naked?" Terrence asked.
"I don't mind," Wendy said with a smirk.
"Shut up, all of you. Get to the upper Hive already," Warren said.
"Not leaving my hero. Well, villain. You know what I mean," Zach said firmly.
Muttering under his breath about stubborn people who couldn't follow a simple instruction, Warren walked into the training arena. He tried not to show his nerves. While he was certain that Layla would never consciously hurt him, her subconscious was in control here. She might not recognise him and he could be killed by a goddamn tree. Powering up in the hope that his flames would protect him against whatever the tree could do, Warren moved closer to Layla, pushing at the flames on her wrist.
Layla basked in the feeling of achievement, watching as her tree and flames destroyed everything around her. The landscape would be barren in a matter of minutes and she could recreate it however she chose.
A feeling pushed at her, the vines struggling to contain the emotion. Wariness, hope, surprise, pride. She didn't recognise the emotions as her own - why would she be surprised at her own creation? - but Layla realised that she recognised the owner. Warren was by her side. Of course he was, he would always be a part of her successes and failures. Turning to face him, she smiled and held out a hand.
Warren was beyond relieved when Layla smiled and held out a hand to him. She recognised him, and that gave him enough confidence to step forward and take her offered hand, even though her eyes were still closed.
"You did this, hippie?" Warren asked, his voice rough and naked body pressed up against hers.
She could only nod.
"Can you turn it into something else?"
Change a tree that had been already formed? An interesting request, but a challenging one. She grinned and the manchineel tree trunk began to shrink, needles protruding as the bark changed and leaves were replaced by needles and pine cones.
Relief flooded her, Warren's emotions so sharp that it confused Layla, disrupting her dream. The scent of a pine tree burning brought her fully out of the dream and she looked around the destroyed training arena in confusion. "What happened?"
"You almost killed us with a fucking tree!" Zach called hysterically.
Peeking over Warren's shoulder to see their friends at the door, Layla's eyes widened and she looked around the destroyed training arena.
"You created the manchineel tree in your sleep, hippie," Warren explained.
"Holy spandex." Layla looked at the pine tree closer, the destruction around them and the flames that were still burning several buildings. They were definitely hers. "Sorry, everyone!"
"Can someone bring us some clothes?" Warren called out.
"No."
"Shut up, Wendy!" Warren said, even as Layla wrapped a giant leaf around them to shield Warren from their friends' stares.
"That ass, though. What? A guy can't appreciate another guy's ass?" Craig asked, snickering.
"Please stop talking," Warren groaned, burying his head against Layla's neck.
Layla stroked his back, calming him slowly as their friends laughed and kept talking. She smiled suddenly, Warren making a soft querying noise against her skin. "You were proud of me."
"Of course. You've spent ages trying to grow that tree from scratch and you finally did it."
Layla drew him in for a kiss, the training arena door closing off with vines even as Ethan returned with their clothes.
"Nope, nope, nope. I'm gone," Adam muttered, heading up to the Hive. "Now I've gotta sanitise the damn training arena. Fucking hell. You guys suck!" he called over his shoulder.
"Love you, too, Ace," Wendy called back, Craig laughing.
...
End of the hundred and twenty-sixth chapter.
Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!
