YES, I updated. And thanks so much for the reviews for the last chap, you! Yes, YOU!

Oh, and just incase anyone's wondering-I've seen another superheroes fic around a few times, and just so you know, based on the small bit I've read of that one, THIS WILL BE NOTHING LIKE IT. That is based on Heroes, which I gotta say, rocks by the way (but it'd be impossible for me to live up to something like that). This is different.

Things will start to make sense as we continue along, but I don't think this is too hard to understand so far.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own TDI.

Izzy knew she was the fastest thing alive. 'Thing', because she definitely wasn't human. What she could do was nearly impossible, and the way she acted usually couldn't be classified as normal behavior either. She'd once mused on the thought she'd come from outer space, far beyond at some alien planet completely indefinite from humankind. Whatever, put aside all that, the point is, she was fast.

Which meant she had no problem, whatsoever, playing with the cops a little during her little midnight break-in. The second the glass shattered they arrived at the scene, ready with guns pointed to the nonexistent and everything. A tad late, perhaps-Izzy fled just two tenths of a second prior.

They shook their heads, decided it must've been some really good hallucination (or a bird, who might've crashed right through), and called it a night, without investigating further.

Three full seconds later, she crashed into the room, dropping onto the couch and holding up the loot, three-bag tons heavy.

He was cooking dinner when he finally looked up. She could smell the broccoli soup coming from the next room. Izzy perked up. She loved broccoli soup.

The theatre was quiet. Well, of course it would be, just after 12am in the morning. The fact it hadn't been visited in years and the fact they were far underground helped, too. There was nothing to worry about, yet lately she'd been having doubts.

"They'll find us," she told him once, her eyes still fixed at the TV they'd stolen. Izzy was quite amazed they had cable down there, and still was, finding herself flicking through channels again, that day. Well, it was a serious matter, at least she thought so, but he didn't seem as concerned.

Her partner rolled her eyes and made his way over, offering the pot of broccoli soup, in exchange for the 'loot'-three cans of tuna fish, and a few beers.

She smirked, slurping her uber-late dinner and watching as he felt inside the bags. "Told you I could handle robbing the grocery all by myself."

"I always believed in ya, Izz," Duncan laughed, reading the back nutrition sections for the heck of it. "By the way, did you see the-"

A loud bang took place upstairs, as if something had fallen, with several footsteps following. He told her it was nothing, but there was more to it-and whatever it was, it kept her awake all night.

She could feel him staring. At the back of her head, wishing oh-so-badly she'd look back and catch him. Well, he'd have plenty explaining to do if she did, but he liked her eyes. He wouldn't mind at all if they narrowed into a glare. He wouldn't even mind if she beat him up (which, she might add, she was completely capable of).

His name sat at the tip of her tongue. She crouched over her desk and twirled a pencil effortlessly between her fingers. Geoff Collins, huh? What'd he find so special about her?

Blonde. How could her hair be so blonde?

Cody was right. It was supposed to be purple. But it was blonde. And the piercings? Where did they magically disappear off to?

And to think, he didn't even know her name.

Stupid.

Geoff tore his eyes away from the back of her head, and tried to pay attention to the lesson. Well, he'd already missed half of it. He'd probably end up asking Cody what happened during the time he was distracted, anyway.

The bell rang. Most everyone scrambled out of their seats and flew out the door. Except her. For some crazy reason she still sat there, still twirling her pencil. He didn't mean to make her drop it; all he meant was to touch her shoulder.

She spun around and her eyes narrowed into a glare. Wasn't this sort of what he wanted, two minutes ago?

"I'd like my pencil back," she spat out once he picked it up.

He shrugged, thinking for a bit before handing it back. "Fine with me."

"Good," and she made off, then stopped at the doorway. "Well, do you want it?"

Raised eyebrow. His mouth felt dry. "Want what?"

"My number."

"Oh." Geoff was in awe as she scribbled it onto a random sheet of paper. He couldn't remember whether his mouth was hung open the whole time or not, but he still felt pretty stupid after.

"But only call during emergencies." Just when he was about what she meant, or what her name was when he finally remembered, she'd already walked out, leaving him to his own thoughts.

General Maclean found himself smirking when two of his gophers burst into the room. He spun himself around in 'his chair' to face them, and as if perfectly rehearsed, asked, "Take a seat. Have some tea. Now tell me, what happened? What did you hear? And by the way, the private washrooms ran out of toilet paper. Do you…mind…?"

Gopher One swallowed. "Not at all, sir."

In a flash he was out, grateful he was now at least a few thirty feet from the boss.

"Guess that leaves you and me now, isn't that right, Bobby?" Gopher Two swallowed, too. Harder. Part of him was tempted to correct Maclean, and tell him his name was actually Fred.

He laughed, an evil, sinister laugh, then leaned back, throwing his legs onto his desk, one of those glossy big-shot kinds. "You're a dead man if you leave a single detail out…"

Fred scrambled a bit and his seat, then tried to regain his cool, "They're the same."

Maclean cocked his head sideways and rubbed his chin.

"Person, I mean. Before Jimmy left, he shot some quick footage of the scene-360 degrees. He never realized it before, until he played it back once he got home. And well, when he slowed the tape a real lot, he caught a glimpse of red hair."

"Is that all?"

He shook his head. "Jim slowed it about a few hundred times more, and he was sure that it-I mean she yelled 'Suckers!' at him…oh, and he told me to tell ya one of his thoughts-wasn't that chick who broke out with her partner a few days ago some redhead too?"

Something struck. "Did he mention which way it was heading?"

"West, sir."

Maclean shot up, adjusting his tie and pacing out the room, Fred trailing agitatedly behind. "Gather a group and search out every inch West-Queen's Park, Keningston Market, any small neighborhoods nearby, the Bathurst Street Theatre…they couldn't have gone far."

Fred swore to do what he was told, "Got it."

I mean, what other choice did the guy have?

R&R.

My next update will most probably be STHD, just because.