2.1

"What are these?" I said, jiggling the bag in my hand.

Seka rolled her eyes. "You know, chips. Casino chips? Ring a bell?"

"Yes," I said, eying her warily. "But why are you giving them to me?"

"Poker."

"Poker?" I echoed, looking around the Casino. It really didn't look how I thought it would. More people, less winning, while peoples dress state ranged from casual to poor. A faintly white haze fogged the air, clogging my senses with an ever-present odor. My nose crinkled as I tried, and failed, to hold back a sneeze.

"That smoke seems to really get to you," Seka observed, eying me sideways while watching the crowd, her finger tracing small circles on the table between us.

"Yeah," I gasped, stifling another sneeze as I paused, looking around, seeing people nearby. "My nose is very sensitive."

"Yeah, I get you," she said, shifting in her seat, facing me fully. "You going to be all right?"

"I think so," I said, gesturing at the casino, "I just need some time to get used to all of this."

Seka nodded, flashing a grin. "Cool beans. So as I was saying though, Poker."

"But-"

"Just think about it, We've got thirty minutes till we meet up with Kenta. We could make thousands in that time. Thousands," she said, holding up a hand, rubbing her fingers together. "All that money, and it's ours for the taking."

"I see where you get the idea that I'm good at poker," I said, looking away with a sigh. "I mean I know how to play pretty well, it's just that everyone can always tell what I'm thinking."

Seka made this strange choking noise, coming from the back of her throat.

I got up in my seat, moving over to help. "Are you okay?"

She took a quick gulp of water, coughing a bit. "Just fine. Right. Sure. Let's go with that. Let's say that you're an easy read now, when you're acting like this. But...what if you change your act?"

"I'm not comfortable with that right now," I said, setting my elbows on the table, speaking in a whisper.

Seeing that man there, the shrapnel through his head…I didn't know what to think. He'd been so many different things to me, just in the course of a few hours in a day. As Don he was a companion, then friend, then a captain. As Victor an enemy, trying to kill Seka's mother. But those were both false. He wasn't either of them really. Victor wouldn't have died like that. With Othella on sight he would have been invincible, able to withstand that blast. The real Don was dead, killed before we met. Now the fake one too, the first life I'd taken.

I killed this man through negligence, and don't even know his name.

"Look," Seka murmured, taking sips of her soda. "I get that you're feeling guilty about Don, but it's no reason to hate yourself. He's not worth that."

"How would you know?" I shot back. "It's not like we knew him."

"He almost killed my mother."

"But did he have to die?"

"To me? That's a yes," she whispered, "But for you I don't know. It's not like you actually killed him. What the hell is so wrong?"

Looking at the table, I caught my reflection in the surface. "I swore to be a hero. To do good with my powers."

"And you did that, didn't you? Look at me! Look at mom!"

"But I didn't save him."

"Just fucking move on!"

People turned from what they were doing, taking a long look at Seka. She sat down, breathing heavily, just waving them off. "Look, what's done is done. That man is already gone. I mean sure you left him alone. Sure you could have done more. But you thought he was invincible, that he'd live through the blast. That wasn't negligence, it was just a mistake. One anyone could have made. Look, would you have done anything different the way you are now?"

I stopped, thinking about it. "I...don't know."

At the time I thought he was Victor, a powerful skill thief made invincible by Othalla. If I removed him from the bubble I would have had to fight him with two handicaps: nearly depleted reserves, and two hostages to save. If I left him I thought he would be fine, just buffeted maybe, thrown in the wind. I could have just drained him, but I'd held back. I'd been afraid I would go overboard, maybe kill him instead. Leaving him had been safe, no risk for anyone involved. Or so I thought. Now, without knowing the outcome…

"Probably not," I admitted.

"Then there you have it," Seka said, spreading her arms. Waiting. It took me a second before I got what she wanted.

"I'm still not comfortable."

She leaned back in her chair, arm draped over her face. "Oh. Come. On."

I looked away, stifling a laugh. Or trying to anyway, I didn't quitemanage it. I think Seka caught on because she just wouldn't stop talking.

"Think about it this way," Seka tried, changing tacks. "It's facing your fears. Getting rid of your hang-ups. I mean imagine if you were facing someone like, say, Hookwolf, and you couldn't find it in yourself to change-"

"I get it, I get it," I cut in. "You want me to play poker."

"I don't just want you to play poker. I want you to clean them out."

"Okay," I said, "You want me to clean them out. And you really think I can do this."

"Yep," she said, kicking back in her chair eyes sparkling with a savage grin. She really does. She thinks I can do this, and as she was said, clean them out.

Earlier today, back in the morning, there was another letter on the table. One of many, piled in a stack. Another one not opened. Just bills, dad said, Nothing to worry about. They'd get paid soon. Just a phase, it will be over soon.

He's been saying this for months. The house was the first to go. At first he did his best to fix it, but, well, the front steps been broken for a long, long time. Then it was our clothes. Then the food we ate changed.

That didn't stop him from taking two weeks off just to help me, even if I hadn't appreciated his efforts. He just kept grit his teeth and moved on, like he had been for the past three years, ever since Mom died. I guess, in a way, I've been doing the same with school. Just going through our daily routines, hoping that everything we knew would go back to normal.

It didn't, of course, there were too many issues. Dad's union went through hard times, all the work drying up. My troubles were at school, my bullies, betrayal.

This could be an opportunity, a step in the right direction. Not a cure all, not really, but the money would help. After all, it's not like i'll change for long, will I? Just for a game, some quick mid-day poker.

Taking a breath, I steadied myself, fixing my goal. "I might be willing to do this, but could we split the profits? I'm not doing so well financially..."

"Split?" she said, slapping your leg. "You're funny. It's all yours if you want it."

"What?" I said, staring.

"Well, except the base I'll give you," she amended, spreading her arms. "Do I look like I'm starved for cash?"

"No," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean that-"

"It's off Casino credit anyways," she said, rolling her eyes. "One of my job's perks."

Beat

"Oh," I said remembering just who owns this place, just how he is known…and just who Seka works for. "I see. Then wouldn't cleaning this out be detrimental to your job?"

"Nah," she said, shrugging. "I'm fine with the owner, but the guy who runs this place is a real piece of work, always giving me issues. I'm not in this for the money, I'm in this for payback."

I hefted the sack, testing it's weight. "How much is in here? In dollar value I mean."

"Bout a thousand," she said, shrugging.

I almost dropped it.

"Right," I said, taking a steadying breath. "Right. Well here I go."

No going back now. But first, how to do this?

Putting my hand under the table, just in case someone ws looking, I tried summoning, while not actually manifesting, my glowing ball of essence. It worked. I would have smiled, but I didn't have the heart for it, staring where it should be in apprehension as I sucked in a breath. First I reached in my backpack, picking out what I needed. I slipped it between my fingers, closing my eyes. Then, focusing on my ball, I took all my feelings, my emotions, my me, and shoved it all in.

Opening my eyes, I stretched out my neck. Well. Certainly not as dramatic as I had expected. I smiled at Seka, who smiled hopefully back."So. Poker night?"

Night in the middle of day. But who am I to judge? I rose from the table, nodding, smoothing out mom and dad's photo, crumpled lightly in my hands.

"Of course, Seka. Poker night indeed."

x-x

2.2

"Hey dad."

"Mmm? O hey Taylor," Dad said, poring over his papers, muttering under his breath. He'd been doing this for days now, and I was getting kind of curious. He only looked like that when he was really, really angry, and never over letters.

"What's got you so down?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said, leaning back in the couch. I joined him up there, and he rustled my hair. "Well, nothing you need to worry about till your older."

I scooted away, protecting my hair. He's stilltreats me like I'm only kid. "But why can't I know now?"

"Oh, go ahead and tell her Danny," Mom said, leaning out of the kitchen. She wagged her cookbook at him, raising her brow. "She's all grown up now, not just daddy's little girl. Tell him Taylor."

I nodded, blowing my hair from my eyes. "Yeah! I'm twelve now! Not eleven anymore!"

He took off his glasses, quirking his lips. "Sorry kiddo, It's only been five days, I sometimes forget. I suppose one year is older, isn't it? I owe you this."

"It's certainly better than glaring at paper all day when you should be getting ready for a meeting. Maybe talking to someone will help you take your mind off things," mom said, moving back to the kitchen. I wrinkled my nose a bit t the smell. Meatloaf again?

"Well if you want to know, you'd better come here," Dad said, patting the couch beside him.

"You're not going to mess up my hair, are you?" I asked, warily eying his hand.

He chuckled, waving a paper at me. "I won't, I promise. I just need to show you something."

Scooting over, I took the paper from his hands. Two sides with numbers, a zigzag slanting down.

"It's a graph," I said, eying it. "We're learning about these in class."

"Yes, but what's it about?"

I squinted. "Union Hiring rates and years in the bay."

"And it's only going lower," he said, sighing.

"But it's been happening for a long time," I said, pointing at the years on the graph. "Why are you so angry?"

"Oh boy," mom said, voice echoing from the kitchen. "Here we go again."

Dad winced, but moved on regardless. "Because this shouldn't be happening. There's no shortage of jobs that need to be done, but nobody from the Dockworkers Association is being hired to do them. Well, no one currently in the Union."

He waved one of his letters. "A good friend of mine just quit the union because he couldn't find work. Not two days later and he's on a project with worse conditions and a third of the pay. A skilled worker like him, forced to work a minimum wage job. Can you believe it? He's planning on skipping city, looking for greener pastures."

"So…you're angry because people are leaving?"

"They're being forced to leave," Dad explained. "People don't want to leave Brockton Bay, but they have to if the city abandons them. It's not their fault they can't make a living anymore. We're sabotaging ourselves by pushing all our skilled workers away. If they leave, then the buildings will suffer. If the buildings suffer, less people will want to move here. If less people want to move, then houses get abandoned, if houses get abandoned, you get this."

"That's a picture of us at the beach," I said, squinting.

"Yes," Dad said, pointing at the background, "but what's this?

"The bad part of town. No one goes there."

"Exactly," he said, "and it's just been spreading. The docks will end up looking like this if everyone leaves and nothing else changes. Turning this around would be easy. Just one important person, one big project. That's why I'm always talking about the ferry. It's the perfect project! ThBrockton bay used to have a giant tourist base, and the ferry was right in the center of it. So on top of all the jobs it would make there would be people coming, bringing in revenue for the express chance to see it! There's also…"

Mom stuck her head through the door, looked at me, and rolled her eyes. We shared a smile before she went back to cooking. Dad's ferry rant is a pretty common occurrence, we heard it at least once a week. I treated it like history class. Smile, nod, and let my mind wander, until he moved on to whatever subject he'd gone off of. Dad could be such a dork sometimes.

"…But the problem is, no one seems to be willing to back such a project," he continued. "It doesn't even have to be the ferry; it could be anything large scale involving the union. Bring money to the docks, and the docks give back. No one seems to see that! Still, I'm not giving up. Now that I'm the Union Representative, I'll make that my goal. I'll find that one person, I'll make that one pitch. Taylor, when you people ask you where you grew up, you'll hold your head high in pride. Brockton Bay will be a city everyone will remember."

Of course, that hadn't happened, but it resembled my current situation. Dad went to meetings he didn't expect to go well all the time. This, I suppose, was something similar.

"This hardly seems fair," I said, walking besides the stout figure of one Mr. Jackson, the casino's current owner. Seka seemed to hate the man.

The sharp dressed Korean businessman didn't spare me a glance, navigating the darkened halls with ease. "Cheating isn't fair."

"She didn't cheat," Seka said, shouldering her purse while rolling her eyes.

"Twenty thousand dollars worth of chips in the span of," he said, pausing to check his watch, "thirty minutes without cheating? I think not."

"Thirty minutes?" Seka gasped. "What an outrage! What a scandal! This totally proves that she cheated at poker!"

"It's enough to validate an investigation," He said, curling his lip in distaste before glancing at me sideways. "You should stop associating with a known troublemaker like Seka. You are in enough trouble as it is."

"Seka? Trouble?" I said with amusement, "I never would have guessed."

She snorted, and he clenched his teeth, gesturing behind us for his guards to catch up. While most guards were picked for their intimidation factor, these two seemed picked for their competance. Not the tallest people I'd ever seen, but their muscles were corded, and they looked like they had some experience in a fight. If I closed my eyes and covered my ears they might even have a chance of landing a hit. Though tempting as it was to lead them on a merry chase, it would hardly help my cause, not when Mr. Jackson currently held the strings to my purse, metaphorically speaking.

My chips clicked as he walked, an ever present reminder of just what was at stake. Twenty thousand dollars. Still, I wasn't that worried. I doubt Seka would have looked so carefree if we were in any serious trouble.

The man walked to a door, pulling out a large ring of keys, jingling freely as he unlocked the door. We followed, sitting down in the first seats available, a plain, if comfortable, low seated variety. He took the one behind the desk, high backed and elegant, inlaid with the scrolling carvings of golden dragons. His guards positioned themselves to block off the door, silent as a grave and about twice as foreboding.

Crossing my legs, I leaned forward, resting my chin in the palm of one hand. "This seems rather final for any sort of investigation."

"Just to make sure you don't abscond with the chips."

I smiled, tilting my head to the right. "Don't you trust me?"

"Quite frankly? No," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Your attitude is blatant and state of dress is appalling. You don't even act as a proper woman should."

"Proper woman," I drawled, amused, but I let the others drop. My clothes were torn in some places, ripped in others, and a hoodie and sweats is hardly what you would expect from someone at a high stakes poker game. While my 'attitude' was debatable, it certainly wasn't normal for this situation. Two lone women surrounded by powerful men. They probably thought to cow me, not amuse me. Sadly, this fails. I could beat them with a thought. But proper woman? "Just what would you define as proper?"

Seka leaned back, nearly tipping her chair. "He means an old school housewife, straight from the sixties."

"No, I do not, but there is a resemblance," he said, fussing with a pen, setting it neatly on the desk. He leaned forwards, clasping his hands before his face. "All things in order. Everything neatly in their place."

Seka shifted her feet, hitting the legs of the table. The pen shifted, barely moving, but Jackson frowned nonetheless. He frowned, hands twitching, before he fixed it again. There was the shifting of feet, the creak of the door. I smiled in recognition, hearing a chuckles deep rumble. Jackson's straightened, bowing his head in apology. "I'm sorry," a pause," sir, I thought your meeting was later. If you'll let me deal with this troublemaker first, I won't be but a second."

I found it interesting how Jackston gestured at me, ignoring Seka entirely, but filed that fact away for later. A comment would interrupt this, ruin their little play. Part actor, part audience, I sat to the side, the facilitating role, letting the drama unfold.

"Tell me her crime if you wish this to hurry."

"But sir…" Jackson said, gaze flicking to me.

Kenta moved to the side, resting his back on the dark wooden wall. "This does not matter. Speak."

Jackson's eyes widened, but he bowed all the same. "Cheating at poker, sir. That is her crime."

"Your evidence?" Kenta asked. "And what was the game?"

"The game was poker," he responded. "Twenty thousand in thirty."

"That is not grounds for cheating."

"But for suspicion, that is. She was not in her place," Jackson said with conviction, conciliatory yet strong. A politicians tone, as my dad loved to say. Forever backpedaling, but never agreeing.

He resembled a mongoose with his very young threatened, trying to hold off a wolf with his words. Brave and praiseworthy if his cause wasn't twisted. Sadly, it was, so the image twofold. A knight wielding folly to twist a dragon from its hoard.

It didn't make sense, seeing his devotion to order. A devotion, a madness, or perhaps something older.

The room filled with a chuckle, deep, low, with a rumble. A few steps from Kenta, his hand on my shoulder. "You remember our meeting, when I spoke of my guest."

Jackson stopped, nodding slowly as I took a new light. "Then…"

"Yes," Kenta said. "This could be her place."

He nodded, getting up from his seat, bowing to Kenta before exiting the room, to the snickering of Seka. Kenta waved the guards out, taking the vacated seat behind the wood desk. Jackson, in all his fine clothes, had looked equal in ways to that high-backed carved chair. It was dwarfed without effort by Kenta's large back, despite his worn looking fleece and raggedy jeans. His stance was quite casual, indolent in his seat. Arms relaxed on the desk, yet no slouch in his posture. Part practice, part nature, if I took my own guess. He passed me my bag, which I accepted with grace.

"Subtle," I said after the door closed behind us. "But I'm not about to join your gang."

"Never my goal. I am not a subtle man."

"This could be your place," I echoed, "What exactly did you mean?"

"This, right here, as we sit in this room," he said. Indicating me and Seka with a wave of his hand. "You sit among us but apart, free to do as you please."

"Allies, you mean," I said with a shake of my head. "I'm afraid I can't do that. While I like you both well enough, I'm not about to work with a villain."

"Yo," Seka said crossly, "What do you think-"

I looked at her smiling, and she cut herself off.

Now came the annoying part of being in this form. People seemed to spend half their time wary of me, the other half frightened. As interesting as some of their reactions were, I could never figure out the why of it. With Seka this was particularly jarring. She went from being an opinionated chatterbox to a partial mute. It's like I scared the personality out of her, even when I did my best to seem approachable and inviting. Which, by the way, seems to work with most people. With her? Not so much.

"Seka," I said, letting my annoyance show, "I told you before, you don't have to treat me any differently when I'm like this. Go on, please, do you think I will snap at you?"

She looked at me, chewing a nail, eyes cast in shadow, a darker blue than normal, contrasting nicely with her flamboyant choice of clothes, all whites, reds, blacks, and large logos. Uncrossing her legs, she looked at me seriously for a moment before blowing out a breath. "Uh, yeah. Well, where was I….fuck it. You know I'm a villain right?"

I raised a brow. "Of course, but helping you save your mother is something completely different than what Lung is proposing."

"Actually, that is exactly what I would propose," Lung said, arm fisting to his right. "A common goal, a common enemy. You have seen the lengths they have gone to take out Naoko. They still not back down from failure, vengeance will only fan their war efforts. My people will strike E88 before they strike down Naoko. You do not have to work with us, that is a given. But we can provide you with plans, information and rumors."

"If that was all, there would be no need for all of this," I said, indicating his office with a lazy wave of my hand. I leaned forwards, my right hand on his desk, barely touching his. "Tell me, what do you stand to gain?"

Lung didn't retract his hand, but didn't move it either, holding my gaze. "I war with the Empire, this is no secret. It is a war, however, that I cannot win."

"Go on," I prompted, looking at Seka from the corner of my eye. She wasn't surprised.

"They know they cannot fight me," he continued. "Instead, they attack my territory."

"The docks," I said, thinking back to his radio conversations.

He nodded. "Indeed. They attack the buildings, and displace many people. They hit my warehouses, bleed my businesses dry."

"You can't do the same to them?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Empire 88 is based downtown, an important place to powerful people. There would be a response from the greater Protectorate. No one important cares for the docks," he said with a shrug. "The more powerful I become, the more destructive I become, and my men cannot fight without me. I have two capes, they have many."

"I see. An ally indeed. Without legitimate grounds to fight the empire, you wish to help those that do, such as the police and I."

"Well," I amended, indicating Seka, "you do have legitimate grounds, but revealing so wouldn't help, now would it?"

"It would not," Lung affirmed.

I cast a thoughtful look around the room. "As interesting as this is, I know there is more. You are strong, Lung, and revel in that fact. Success is your norm, breaking even is a weakness. What changed? How much did you lose?"

"Buildings, suppliers, storage," he said, not missing a beat, obviously expecting this line of questioning. "They damaged my business fronts, requiring workers, cutting into my manpower. When my men build, I lose presence in the city. The presence I lose, Empire 88 will gain. I am a criminal, yes, not a very good man. But I live on the docks, I need them to flourish. Nazis only wish to see the docks burn."

Nodding, I conceded his point. While the docks hadn't flourished in his time here, they hadn't deteriorated either. Well, no more than usual. Still, that wasn't what caught my attention. "Why would your repairs take manpower? What about the dockworkers association?"

"The Dockworkers association," Lung asked, snorting. "They are too expensive, demanding too much money for too little work. Why hire union when I find others cheaper?"

Beat

"I…may have a proposal," I said. "A compromise, if you will."

Lung nodded. "Go on."

"I see no reason to work with you. Not long term, and not now. Your information is good, but the Police will have better. If matters continue as they have for the past few years then I see no reason to help. However," I said, leaning I close. I moved my hand onto his, bringing it up. Our elbows remained on the desk, hands clasped in the air. "I can promise you this. If you hire the Dockworkers, make a concentrated effort to clean up the docks, I will work with you. I will personally dismantle Empire 88. Man by man, brick by brick."

x-x

2.3

Blue, green, and white warred within the ball in my hands. Well, war wouldn't be the right term, it would be better to say they flowed. I tossed it idly, watching it catch in the light.

Strange how something so small could hold all that I associate 'me' with. An odd thought considering the brain does something similar, but there nonetheless.

Letting go, I watched it for a moment, bobbing gently in the air. Placing my hand on the orb, I closed my eyes and pulled. It shrunk down, shrinking till it was barely more than a bauble. It didn't take long for that to fade either.

Seka rose from her seat and shouldered her purse, jerking her head at the door. "We going?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding, taking a moment to look at Lung's vacated seat. 'I'll think about it,' he said, which made a lot of sense. This decision wouldn't only affect him, so he has a lot of people to consult, but he'd shook my hand as he left, a strong, deliberate gesture. He would agree.

"Great, you got a ton of chips to cash," she said, grinning. "Oh yeah, I just want you know this. You probably didn't see it what with how Kenta stole the stage. The look on Jackson's face? Fucking priceless."

-

"Twenty thousand dollars," I breathed. "I mean, I kind of expected this, but actually seeing it…"

Seka rolled her eyes, pulling me through the door. "Yeah, yeah, I get it already. You've been repeating this the whole way out. Speaking of that, you know all those people back there? They could hear you."

"I guess," I said, looking up at the sky. Steel grey clouds rolled across the horizon, not a hint of sun in sight. "You wouldn't happen to know the time, would you?

"Yeah, half past five," she said, shrugging. "Why?"

Shit. I stopped, gulped, and turned to Seka."Okay. If that's the case, this is very important. Seka, can you keep a secret?"

Looking at me from the corner of her eye, blinked, and shrugged, her expression guarded. "Sure?"

Stopping, I grabbed her hand, pulling her from the open street, closer to the wall.

"Even from Lung?" I asked, moving closer, speaking in a whisper.

Seka broke my grasp, backing into the wall, hands raised. "Yes! Damn! Whatever you say! Holy shit, what do you even want from me?"

-

"I don't believe this," Seka said, jerking the wheel of her car as we turned the corner. "Seriously, what the hell?"

Gritting my teeth, I hung on to the dashboard. "I know this is surprising, but could you please just slow down?"

"Yeah, sorry, just…wow," she said, reaching the stoplight, hitting the brakes. She turned to face me, a hand on the wheel, the other on her seat. "We're going to meet your dad. Your dad."

"You seem more surprised by him existing than my transformation," I pointed out. I don't know exactly what I'd been expecting. Surprise, revulsion, or anger maybe. Some sign of betrayal, or resentment. She'd just sighed in relief and said, 'That's it?'

But as soon as my dad got mentioned…I sighed. "You know, you don't have to meet him if you don't want to. I mean he's nothing to be afraid of, but I can tell you're nervous about this."

"It's not him I'm freaking out over, it's…" Seka sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, so something's been bugging me for a while now, and this might explain it. Don't you have your ball when your transformed?"

I blinked. "Of course I do."

"Well then," she said, turning back to the road, "Can you show me it?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's silly. Humans can't summon orbs of essence. It's dematerialized."

"Of course not," she muttered. "Well there goes that theory."

"What theory?"

"Nothing," she bit out, muttering inaudibly under her breath.

Shrugging, I turned to the mirror, hand resting on the window. The chill was nice, it helped keep me focused. Going from a perfectly healthy body to a currently recovering one just made me more aware of everything wrong with me right now, but the aches and pains meant that I was me, in both body and mind. My brown eyes stared back, brown curly hair, nearly black. Limbs thin, not supple, my mouth just a touch too wide. This used to bother me, but after today, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"We're here," Seka said, her door creaking with the force she opened it. She stood there for a second, sighed, and then got out. I followed, leaning down to touch the grass.

"I'll go in first," I said. "And remember to call me-"

"Yeah, yeah, your name is Taylor Herbert."

"Hebert," I corrected. "And my dad's name is Danny."

"I got it, I got it," she said, waving irrelevantly.

I nodded, and we moved to the door. I was a little worried about dad's reaction to Seka, she could be really abrasive sometimes, but he probably dealt with worse on the docks, so that wouldn't be a problem. I didn't expect him to love her, but not hate her either. We reached the steps, and her foot hit the second. The wood creaked and bent but didn't break, and she was off it soon enough. She eyed the steps, then eyed the roof. "You know, I didn't believe you about the whole money situation earlier, but..."

I stared at her, and she trailed off. "Right. Got it. I'll shut up about that. By the by, how are you going to explain away the twenty k sitting in your bag?"

"I uh…haven't got that far yet, "I said sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head. "I was more worried about coming home late from school."

Seka nodded thoughtfully. "Pretty sure I can cover you on both parts."

"Okay," I said, deciding to trust her. She probably knew what she was doing better than I did, what with Naoko not knowing she's a cape and all. That just left covering for her faux passes, which was doable. "Let's do this then."

My knuckles rapped on the door, the sound, while not loud, was different enough to notice. A door opened, footsteps hitting the stars. Dad opened the door, face drawn, shoulders stopped. His hair was in disarray, growing bald spot all the more evident. Lean, lanky, and tall, he resembled a scarecrow standing like that. His back straightened when he saw us, gaze turning to me, eyes gaining new light. Well, before his brows furrowed, a thundercloud rolling beneath the surface. There would be words later, but not now, not while we had company. "Taylor."

"Hey dad," I said, trying to smile. Half a failure, half a success. More a twitch of the lips than anything else.

"And who's this?" he asked, gaze shifting to Seka.

I winced, half tempted to close my eyes to wait out the inevitable fireworks. They both had some pretty bad tempers, and dad was not in a good mood. Instead I shied away as much as I could, trying to avoid their eyes. Seka reacted much as I expected. She stepped up to him, getting in closer, a hand quickly rising, her other in her purse…

"Mr. Hebert, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," she said, smiling, genuinely smiling, back straight, hands clasped before her, Boston accent barely noticeable. She extended her hand. My dad took it, the storm disappearing, face smoothing as his gaze turned appraising. "If you're anything like your daughter, I'm sure we'll get along famously. My name is Seka Nakane."

"Pleased to meet you Ms. Nakane," dad said, shaking her hand, falling back on his habits. He stood in the door for a moment, looking from one to the other. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here, and how does it involve my daughter?"

"It's a bit of a tale," she said with a small smile, inclining her head, "and your stairs are, well…"

Dad blinked. "Ah, yes, sorry about that. I forgot my manners. Feel free to come in, if you'll just give me a second..."

Waving his hand, he walked inside, reaching down to pick some papers off the floor. He centered a vase, moving on to the couch. I heard some pots clash, the blinds being drawn. Seka turned, politely averting her gaze.

This is just weird. Scratch that, this is downright uncanny. I'd thought at worst a fight, at best a standoff. Not this. I glared at Seka, hissing under my breath. "Okay. Where did that come from?"

Seka's eyes shifted, brow raising, smile showing more teeth.

"What, didn't think I could pull off a high class act? Please," she scoffed. "I went to Cornell."

-

"Taylor helped your mother? Good to hear," dad said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "But there's no reason to reward us like this. Eighteen thousand…"

I winced, and he eased up the pressure on my shoulder till I didn't feel his weight, but I still felt his warmth. It felt unfamiliar, but nice. We sat on the couch, little apart from each other, facing Seka across the table. She hung her oversized purse on the arm of chair, legs crossed, back straight, hands folded neatly on her lap. Her off shoulder punk rock shirt should have ruined the image, but it felt more like an afterthought, easily ignored in the greater picture.

Seka leaned forwards, placing a hand on the table. "I know, I know, it seems like a lot, right? Well it's really nothing. Between my mother's clinic and my own patents, we have more than enough to spare as thanks."

Dad eyed the stack of cash on the table. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Seka said, smiling. "You'll never know just how much help Taylor has been."

I shot her a glare at that, quickly looking to dad to see if he noticed. He didn't, too busy staring at the stack, thank god. I swear Seka's smile turned into a grin for a second, but dad didn't seem to notice that either.

Dad reached out, hand stopping halfway before he grabbed, his eyes wide and staring. "Then…thank you. Thank you very much. I just really don't know what else to say."

"No big," Seka said, waving a hand. "Quid pro quo and all that."

Dad shook his head, sighing. "I know this is quibbling and all, but I just wish we might have got this sooner. Maybe then we wouldn't have had to strike that deal with Winslow."

"I'm sorry, what?" Seka asked, blinking.

"Nothing, nothing, just some issues with bullies," I said, waving my hands, trying to cut them off.

"Bullies."

"Yes, that's part of the reason I'm glad she met you," dad said, smiling. "Taylor's been the target of a constant bullying campaign for over a year now, and I was worried it was cutting into her ability to make friends."

It took Seka a moment to respond, her voice a little higher than before. "Right! Well, I'm sure you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Or the bullies," I pointed out, a little hopefully. "Some police might pay the school a visit, start cracking down on the crime, checking out my case."

"Really?" dad asked, turning to face me. Recognition crossed Seka's face as she seemed to relax, regain her lost composure. Maybe she was just worried for me?

"Well, possibly," I said, closing my eyes. Emma is his granddaughter. Would he really go through with this?

"Who did you talk to?"

"Chief Villers?"

"Ah," dad said, leaning back in the couch, rubbing the back of his head with a strange twist to his lips, "then believe me when I say that he'll get this done."

"You sound like you have personal experience," Seka said, eying dad appraisingly.

"Back when I was younger and dumber, yes," dad said with a lopsided grin. It softened as he turned to me, gently nudging my shoulder. "That was back when I met your mother. She got us in a lot of mischief back then, and, well…we had a few personal meetings with the Chief. He isn't a man to let something go. Or forget for that matter."

He mulled that last part over before shaking his head. Seka seemed somewhere between revelation and constipation before she schooled her expression, probably trying for that same smile from earlier, but looking more curious that anything else. When she spoke she held a note of excitement. "She sounds interesting. Do you think I could meet her?"

Dad's smile dropped, and I looked away.

"Shit," Seka said. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Its fine," dad said, attempting to smile. "It's been years now, we've had time to get over it."

"Yeah, but the way I went and just…shit. Just…sorry," she said, moving to stand.

"It's fine," dad said, waving her down brows furrowed, before he wiped his hand across his face, sighing. "I mean it. Please, sit."

Seka sat, arms splaying over the chair, head lolling backwards. Dad's lips quirked as he took her in. "So was that Boston I heard earlier?"

"Yep," she said, pulling an arm over her eyes. "Fuck I feel like an ass now."

"Still less of one than you sounded earlier," dad said, leaning back into the couch, a small smile playing across his lips. "I hear too many people talk like that at work."

"Yeah?" she said, pulling her head up, eyebrow raised. "What do you do?"

"Oh, I'm the Dockworkers Union representative," he said, fixing his shirt. "Polite and stuck up is all I get."

Seka's head dropped. "Right, I think I'm done with all the whammies for now. I got to peace out anyways, check on my mom."

"I'll see you out," I said, rising from my seat. She got up, grabbed her purse, and made a beeline for the door. I followed, almost running to catch up. Dad watched us go, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes.

My shoes getting soaked was annoying, but you get that when you walk through grass, around here, especially when it just rained. Doubly so because it looked like I hadn't had to do it, Seka stood still, waiting for me by the car.

"Yo," Seka said as we got closer, nodding. "When's the chief coming to clean house?"

"You mean to Winslow?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Yeah."

"I don't know," I said, squinting, trying to remember. "I mean it's not like he told me or anything, he just seemed firm."

"Right, right," Seka said, tapping her phone. She pocketed it, crossing her arms. "And now we wait."

"For what?" I asked, curious.

Her phone buzzed, and she took it out. "Mom to respond."

Eying it, she started grinning. "Right, so looks like you'll be seeing me around tomorrow. "

I blinked. "What? Why?"

"Chief has an off day, he hasn't got anything planned. Well," she amended, "Nothing involving mom anyways. After a gang war, things are usually pretty quiet around here. People licking their wounds, counting their earnings or losses. Biding their time. The Police probably aren't expecting any trouble, and Villers is pretty good for a Govie. This'll be his chance, and he's gonna take it. Any move he's making happenstomorrow."

"And after seeing all the shit you pulled today, and learning everything I just learned?" I'm not missing this," she said, grinning as she got into her copper red car. "Not for anything. Not when I'm about to see geniusin the making. Catch you round."

She hit the gas, pulling out, breaking off into traffic. I just stared for a moment before I shuddered, shook myself off, and headed back inside. My dad was standing in the doorway, watching her go. "That's a good friend you made there."

"You heard what she said?"

He shook his head. "No. But I saw her wait. And whatever it is you really helped with, I just want you to know I'm proud of you kiddo."

I looked at him, feigning ignorance. "What are you talking about?"

He motioned me inside, raising a brow. "I'm not about to believe someone just gave us eighteen thousand dollars for 'emotional support'. I won't pry about it though, it's your secret."

"Thanks," I sighed, slumping against the door.

"But I'm glad you picked such a good person as your friend," he said, ruffling my hair. "I'm sure she'll be a great influence on you."