A/N Thanks for the reviews everybody! Does anybody have some suggestions for who else can talk about the heroes? I'm thinking of throwing in some people who know about the saving the world (ex Kampe), but I'm not sure. Reviews are appreciated.

Warning: There are some suggestive themes in this one.

Mrs. Johansson: Mrs. Johansson is the 40 year-old next door neighbor to the seven heroes.

"Neil!" I heard through the closed window.

I threw my pillow over my head in frustration. Those kids could be my alarm clock. No, ever since they moved in, those kids have been my alarm clock.

Every morning I would awake to those darn kids screaming. It got so frequent I have already memorized some of the regular phrases. It was usually along the lines of:

"Neil! Let me in the shower!" or "Herry! Save me some breakfast!"

The noise didn't end in the morning, no. There was always a ruckus going on at night. Usually arguing or screaming from horror movies.

I really wondered why those kids were there.

The day I saw some people moving into the empty brownstone. I tried to be neighborly and stopped by for a visit. Imagine my surprise when I saw seven kids. When I asked them where their parents were, they stammered something about orphans and a city program.

I decided not to get too friendly with those seven teenagers. I wasn't completely sure whether they were part of a city program. I mean, sure, I've heard of orphans being sent into schools, but to send just seven kids into a pretty expensive brownstone was odd to say the least.

And what a seven they were! They didn't see like orphans to me.

I swear that blonde pretty boy was on the cover of every magazine I ever saw. And what kind of orphan had a red sports car? I looked up that car when I was curious and it turned out to be over 80 thousand!

Sometimes, I saw a lady with dark purple hair go into the house. I'm pretty sure she acted as a maid to those insufferable kids. What kind of orphans had sports car, maids, and were models?

And it didn't end there. I would always see them tired out, sometimes arriving home so late the owls fell asleep. They usually had scratches and looked like they were hurt too.

Whatever these kids were, they were bad news. I told my kids to stay away from them. God knows what they're always doing so late at night.

"You can't be kidding me?" I heard a girl yell. I groaned. Maybe I should tell them to be quiet, but I'd like to try to keep as far away from those children as I can.

"Hurry up guys! We have to be ready for training in an hour!" a boy's voice shouted.

An hour? No way. I had heard the kids getting ready before and I was not in the mood to listen to an hour of it. Anyways, today was Sunday. I was getting some sleep.

I quickly changed into a comfortable blouse, skirt, and slippers before I left the house.

Just before I crossed the threshold, I felt a hand pull at my skirt.

"Mommy, where are you going?" Alex, my 6 year-old asked, eyes wide. I wondered what he was doing up so early in the morning. If those kids woke him up, I was really going to give it to them.

"I'm going next door to tell the neighbors to quiet down. You should get some sleep," I said quietly while gently patting his head.

"Really?" he asked, eyes wide with excitement. "Can I come too?"

I sighed Alex always held a fascination for the teenagers. Being able to live with your friends and do whatever you wanted to, what child wouldn't have? He always wanted to see what was going on when they were arguing or why a light was on at 4 am in the morning.

"Sorry honey, you need some sleep," I said as I sent him back to his room.

I knocked on the door and the magazine boy answered. He was looking- wait- admiring himself in a three-panel mirror.

"Hello," he asked, drawing out the –o. his eyes never left his reflection.

"Well, I was sleeping and I heard you guys and- Excuse me, are you listening" I said annoyed.

"Mmhm," he answered, still not looking at me. He straightened out the back of his hair and started to inspect hid teeth.

'Neil who is i- Oh, hi Mrs. Johansson. Neil go grab some breakfast," a brown-haired boy said. "Hello, Mrs. Johansson, how may I help you?"

"Well," I said, a little irritated at this point. "I was sleeping and then I was woken up, so can you guys please quiet down."

"Oh, sure. Thanks for dropping by. See you around,"

I smiled as I finally got into bed. Five minutes passed peacefully and then-

'Archie! I got it first!"

"No way! I totally had it before you!"

I groaned as I leapt out of bed to buy some earplugs.