Author's Notes: Oh look! I decided to add a second chapter. Glee.

Replies:

Spindle Berry- Ack! My innocence! ) Many thanks for the nice meaty review- much love to you! Also, apologies for the French thing. I honestly had no clue that other stories see him as so…and I mostly judged his ethnicity by his facial features. Those cheekbones just scream France!! By the way, where are these other stories you speak of? I'd sure like to read them too!

Ms. Kinnikufan- I'm so glad people enjoy stories about the NSA supers. It gives me incentive to keep going. On that note, I took a peek at the stories you had written. Talk about whoa! Flame Test doesn't even hold a candle to your multiple, awesome NSA super stories! I love yooouuuuu!!

Disclaimer: Pixar and Disney own The Incredibles and all of the characters in it. I also don't own Arrowhead bottled water. Just for the record.

Flame Test: Chapter 2

My issue is usually between being on time for work at the local movie theatre and proving myself as the diligent, hardworking employee that my boss is looking for, or blowing all of that off completely and opting instead to rescue the pretty young lady hollering from the eight story of the burning apartment complex. My usual answer is not too difficult to guess when you put into consideration the amount of burning glares I get from my dear boss. Ah well, what can you do? Rescuing hapless victims isn't too much of a hassle; burning flesh is a stench I'd rather not have the city wafting in anyway.

It was a cool, windless night and I had no particular worries like the aforementioned on my mind. I was decked out in my hero wear, that old clichéd saying "All dressed up and no where to go" ringing in my ears. I had chosen for myself a relatively tall building to scout the city from. It was an abandoned piece of sod, making my undetected journey to the rooftop terrace no laborious task. The ledges of old balconies along the side of the building provided a quick way to get down in a hurry. From up here I could usually spot trouble before it happened, but this particular night was fairly dead, which I found disheartening. Now don't take me the wrong way; I don't exactly take much joy in witnessing crime or for that matter, beating it down either. But I'm sure that you understand the concept of boredom.

Think of that time when you decided to be stupid and stared at a pot of water for minutes on end, waiting for it to boil. Waiting, watching for evildoers to strike isn't much different. You are constantly struck with the notion that the waiting is pointless, nothing is going to happen!, but the more stubborn part of you is insisting it's been calm way too long; it's definitely time for someone to make a move. I've been caught up in this conflict far too many times to care for; I've lost count of the number of times I fell asleep against the ledge, waking up with a start to gape at the busy intersection fifty stories below. Granted, being active in the super line of duty calls for plenty of caffeine.

I wasn't alone tonight though- Stratogale had spotted me nodding off while she was flying around (Flying! How awesome does that sound? Oh, the envy!) and had decided to keep me company.

There was a raggedy paper bag hooked beneath her belt. She reached into it and pulled out a pear. "Want a bite?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, thanks." Pears. Yuck.

She shrugged. "Suit yourself." Stratogale chewed vigorously and leaned to peer over the ledge. "So whatcha waiting for, trouble?"

"No, I'm waiting for the man with the dancing monkey," I answered, sarcastically if you hadn't already figured that out. "He's usually over at that corner by now."

"Huh. Good one, Jack." She gnawed at the core of the pear for a moment before chucking it down over the side of the building. I followed its descent, up to where it crashed rather heavily at the feet of an early rising man no doubt heading off to work. Startled, he jumped back from the madly skittering fruit and glanced up. Stratogale drew back from the ledge and covered up her laughter with both hands.

"Hey," I protested. "Someone might come up here."

The way she glanced at me was strangely familiar. I realized that it was the way I had glanced at the male teacher I had found nuzzling my gym shorts. "You think someone's gonna bother to check out this old dump? Whatever."

I fumed for a moment. "You're littering besides."

"Like crap I am! Maybe the rats will feed it to their babies."

"So now you're concerned for the welfare of rats?"

"You know it." Stratogale stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face during flight. She was shorter than me, and very skinny. She didn't look to be more that sixteen years old.

I turned away. "Don't you have homework to do or something?"

"Trigonometry. Hey Gamma, wanna do some Trigonometry for me?"

I frowned at her and she laughed. "Only joking. Boy, you're a load of fun. Have a chocolate." So saying, Stratogale pulled a red box from her bag. It was heart-shaped, with a To/ From label splashed across the cover. I realized that she must have received it from an admirer the past Valentine's Day, three days prior. She had thoughtfully smeared out her civilian name as well as the name of the affiliated boy. Stratogale waved the box at me. "Go on, take one."

"I really shouldn't."

"Come on! Don't make me get fat eating them all by myself."

Fat was precisely something the stick-figured girl definitely needed more of. I hated to think of what would happen if she got stuck in an elevator- she probably wouldn't last more than four hours. However, I accepted a small square before she could do something drastic, perhaps like throw the whole bow at my head. "Thanks." I popped it into my mouth was a tad bit surprised when the upper layer of chocolate flaked away, leaving a mess of caramel sitting on my tongue. I swallowed it hastily.

Stratogale looked over at me from where she was chewing a square of her own. "What, don't like caramel?" I shook my head and she sighed, biting into another piece. "Talk about picky."

"For real," I agreed, sipping water from the bottle I had brought along. Arrowhead. The only water I'll drink. The filtered crap tastes like…filtered crap.

She grinned at me. "It happens. Me, I won't eat tomatoes. You can threaten to cut the toes off of my left foot, and I still won't touch 'em. Pleasant picture, huh?"

"Not particularly." I glanced up at the sky. There was a faint smattering of pallid light to the east. "Guess we can leave the city to the day-patrollers now." I looked at Stratogale now. "I'm out of school; I can sleep all day until work. But how-"

"Don't worry about me. I'm wired up on espresso. I bet I'll be too much for my teachers to handle!" She smiled brightly and stuffed her remaining chocolates into the paper bag at her side. "Boy, I should really ask Edna for a side pouch one of these days."

"What, to carry food around in?" She nodded. "Don't you eat enough at dinner?"

"This is my dinner. Sometimes my parents bring take-out, but I usually settle for whatever I find around the house. Stratogale pointed down to the pear core that was still lying on the sidewalk- rats and their babies be damned. "You can't say that my meals aren't nutritious."

I blew a lock of hair from my eyes. A few strands had gotten stuck under my mask and I shook them loose. "Stop by again. I'll make you something if you'd like."

Stratogale blinked at me. "You can cook?" She beamed at my response of "Heck yes I can." "Thanks Gamma Jack! That's real nice of you." She snuck a look at her watch. "But for now, I'd better get going. Thanks for the date!" I scoffed as she laughed and jumped from the ledge, gliding off to who-knows-where.

I watched her go. You probably think that I found her pretty, and you'd be half-right. Stratogale was nice-looking, but that was the extent of it for me. Call me crazy, but only reason I don't immediately strike up relationships with all the pretty ladies I rescue is because I still harbor that childhood belief in a one true love. Like I said- call me crazy. I'll take my chances with it though.

My musing was interrupted by sudden music from below. I inclined my gaze and found a man turning a crank box, the monkey at his side dancing fit to blur off into space.