Author's note: Hey, fellas, have you heard the news? The story's back in town! Pardon my reference to a band I'm not particularely into, but I thought it was funny, and dudes with stilted attitudes hate it when you make fun of "The Led" as Led Zeppelin are called by the boys who think they're in the know. Hey ho, let's go! Here's chapter four for those who want it, and for those who don't as well, come to think of it. Time for me to shut my little blabbermouth, I think. See you on the other side!

Chapter 4

Tony was in trouble. In fact, he would go so far as to say he was in double trouble. "Twice as much as anybody else, oh yeah!", as Elvis Presley, the so-called King of Rock And Roll, would put it. In a moment of indiscression he had let his transgression slip, and while his family were thrilled that he had made a new pal, the fact that he had been eating at Barabas Pizza was not received with pride and joy.

"Did you ever stop to think about how it would look to the public if you ate there?" his mother had demanded, her nose turned up in apparent disgust.

"What's the big deal? So maybe the name Barabas has some nasty biblical conotations, but I should think there would be worse places for us to have gone, what with the current state of education and the waning influence of Christianity," he had replied.

His guardians had not appreciated that, and for the next twenty minutes he had been the victim of a lecture on how an unmasked superhero had a far greater degree of responsibility to uphold the respectability and moral virtue of the parahuman community than did their masked counterparts. Had Tony for one second thought of how this information could be used by villain groups to soe distrust? In truth he hadn't, but as he did, the reaction seemed very exaggerated for what had at worst been a minor transgression.

As he had done so many times recently, Tony sighed forlornly. This was far from the first time his foster family had shown unreasonable expectations in regards to him. Ever since his seemingly unwanted arrival in their midst, he'd felt as if he was subject to a far more rigid moral code than the rest of the family, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

His family didn't have any problems admitting it when Victoria did wrong, but they usually decided that the punishment would suffice once they had given her a short talking to. With Tony it was different. In addition to their rants being a lot longer, they were also a lot sterner when applied to him, as though the slightest misdeed was a cause for worry and showed his significant lack of moral fiber. Which was why two days later found Tony walking aimlessly down the street, rather than in his room listening to "The Fidelity Wars" by Hefner. He'd simply had to get out of the passive aggressive atmosphere in the house that he called home.

Like most American cities, Brockton Bay was rarely, if ever, truly quiet, but this day the noise levels rose above the normal background din of conversations, cars, and conversations about cars and girls, which were the two things Andy Shernoff of the Dictators lived for, but which for Tony was the subject of an abstract utopian past more than it was something he talked about in the present. A lot of the stores in the touristy part of town were having sales, and that was wont to make a lot of citizens crawl from the woodworks. To compensate for this increase which might scare off the tourists, after all, security had been tightened proportionally. Tony had little doubt that he would have been harassed by these forces of law and order had he not been as well known as he was.

"Finally this unmasked superhero business is good for something," he thought, a bitter scowl creasing his brow. He ventured through streets and alleys, with no particular place to go, as Chuck Berry would put it. The storefronts all were covered in signs, promising deals to astound and amaze, if only you would venture through the door. Tony bought little of it, as he wandered along. Sure he was walking the streets, but it was mostly a distraction to get away from the lofty matters on his mind.

As he was about to reject a particularely excessive salesman who'd actually left his store in pursuit, Tony stopped as he heard someone call his name. His mouth drew downward into a frown as he turned around slowly. Reluctantly, he used his fingers to shadow his eyes from the scorching sun. This was just what he needed. Another doggone fan who needed to see Tony on his best behavior. If he didn't play this right, he knew that his family would give him reason to be bugged at his old man, though maybe not in as extreme a way as Murray Wilson gave his son Brian Wilson reason to be bugged at his.

But thank the stars, Dean Martin in particular. It wasn't some group of unknowns seeking his help, his autographs, or his favour. It was the girl with whom he'd had such a rambunctious time at Barabas Pizza. Though Tony was relieved, he couldn't deny the slight resentment that rose within him at her carefree approach. He gave her what he considered to be a polite, if somewhat indifferent look.

"Oh, hello!"

That sounded far too gitty for his taste. He musn't forget that it was partly her fault that he was in dutch, or in double trouble, as these ethnically sensitive times demanded one put it, with his family.

He decided to put up a metaphorical wall between himself and this girl, before her presence lead to more conflict. He was a bit conflicted, but no doubt determination would see him through. With this in mind, he squared his shoulders, and turned back to Taylor, who could have been a friend, had they only decided to eat at another pizza place.

Author's note: Many people may have decided to finish their conversation in this chapter, but I think Tony's decision makes for a compeling stopping point, as it shows his character changing. Well, I for one find it a suitably dramatic place to end the chapter, so there.