I really wasn't sure just what to think about my Dad's fling or whatever it was with SSgt Murphy.

I mean, she could be nice. You know, when she wasn't being the all-seeing bane of all life on this Earth like all noncoms are by default. And other than that horrifying sight of her and Dad on our kitchen table that might be permanently burned into my brain for all of eternity, it wasn't like the two were all lovey-dovey. In fact, after the 'talk,' they were both very careful about displays of affection in front of Nataliya and I.

Well, besides that painfully awkward moment when Dad invited her and Nataliya to watch a movie with us later that night. For his sake, I won't dwell on just how painfully bad Dad was at talking to SSgt Murphy, but she deigned to take mercy on him. I didn't much like how they sat on the couch with his arm wrapped around her middle, but it was becoming increasingly and painfully crystal clear that my Dad was actually kind of astoundingly hopeless when it came to women, like Greek tragedy levels of hopeless, which made the way that Mom had driven our lives so strongly begin making a lot more sense in retrospect.

Nataliya and I couldn't help but snicker about it once we had retreated to my room later that night, because she'd brought her book with her and wanted to do more reading. Was it unkind of us to poke fun at my Dad's fledgling romance with the unholy terror of Barnes ANG's PT field?

Yep.

Did we do it anyways?

Yep!

But then something happened that never fails to fill anyone with horror. We heard, ahem, a sound carry from my Dad's room down the hall, a soft feminine cry that had been very hastily cut-off, as if someone had clapped a hand over their mouth. Or her mouth. Then it happened again.

Nataliya and I had stared at each other with bewilderment. Then the horror came and I'm certain that despite her fair complexion, my face had turned far redder than hers, and Nataliya had been blushing all the way to her ears.

"Taylor, are they-" she had started to quietly ask me.

"No, not talking about it!" I had hissed out.

And thus it was us two furiously blushing girls that began stuttering our way through another chapter of The Hobbit and trying to ignore the occasional 'sound' that managed to carry down the hall that night. Eventually, my Dad and the Staff Sergeant quieted down, much to my relief. But then Nataliya had to ruin it by pausing and looking up from the sentence she'd been struggling through. She had frowned thoughtfully, then looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes and in her most sweetly innocent tone, asked me, "If you have a little sister in nine months, do you think she would be tall like your father or short like the Sergeant?"

I immediately hit her with a pillow, and then later we settled down to dig further into Bilbo's continuing adventures with a troupe of the worst houseguests imaginable.

Dad flew back to Brockton Bay the next day after breakfast, which sucked. But I'd had eight straight days of his attention, so I guess I couldn't complain, though I wanted to. Well, most of his attention.

Eww.

After my Dad left, both Nataliya and I had sessions with Dr. Thatcher, followed by doing our best to chip away at some of the school work we'd missed all week, with Nataliya especially frantic with worry concerning her perfect grade average for the year, even though we were being given plenty of time to make up for the school work that we'd both missed while we were in the hospital. Really, in my head, I knew that I should be happy that Nataliya was clearly working her way back towards the overachieving pain in the ass that I first met.

Except that after two straight hours of study, study, more studying and a little bit more studying on the side I was ready to pull my hair out. I found myself rubbing the bridge of my nose, and for some weird reason, missing my glasses a little.

"-ylor? Are you even listening?" I blinked, then glanced up to meet the annoyed glower from her side of my living room table. "You were not! Honestly, if we do not keep our faces to the grindstone, then our grades will slip and we have missed too much school already!" she complained with an annoyed huff. I couldn't help but groan in response.

"It's 'nose to the grindstone,' Tilly," I gently corrected her despite how mentally exhausted I already was. "And we've been at this since my Dad left for the airport. My brain is about to turn to mush and ooze out of my ears."

When she didn't immediately respond to my complaining I glanced her way, and was briefly taken aback by the embarrassed blush that had spread across her face along with an expression of surprise.

"... 'Tilly?'" she quietly repeated after a moment. I felt my own cheeks grow warm and gave an awkward, careful shrug of my shoulders. I'd stopped wearing the sling, but my arm was still pretty sore and I freely admit to being paranoid about the neat row of surgical staples on my forearm.

"Ah, sorry, I'd been thinking about a nickname, and I guess that was kind of rude of-"

"I like it." I blinked at her faint smile, and found myself smiling back.

Though before we could get back into it there was a knock at my front door. Nataliya groaned in annoyance at the interruption as I dragged myself to my feet to answer it. My face immediately grew hot at the sight of SSgt Murphy gently smiling up at me the moment I opened the door.

I'll admit now, I gave serious thought to slamming the door shut and running. What made me hesitate was seeing her in plainclothes for the very first time. It wasn't anything fancy, a nice blouse, neatly pressed slacks and a smart-looking pair of shoes [not bad, not bad, you can barely notice the holster riding her hip underneath the blouse or the backup on her ankle] to go with her subtle makeup.

"Oh good, Sokolova is here too," she said as she caught a glimpse of the other girl. "Girls, put the books away and get your shoes on, we're going off base for a while."

I blinked. Nataliya immediately looked apprehensive, and not just because the sheer thought of being off base transformed her from curvy-blond-girl to curvy-robot-girl-that-just-snapped-her-pen-in-half.

"Yeah, I agree with Tilly," I said with perfectly stoic calm without the slightest hint of a cracking voice. [Really? Who are you trying to convince?] "I'm not sure either of us actually need anything off-base at the moment?" No, my palms weren't getting clammy at all. Of course not. The staff sergeant sighed. Then she gave me a flat stare.

"Normally, I wouldn't consider pushing either of you on this," she calmly said, "but in this particular instance, if both of you are going to make a serious attempt at being military Parahumans, then hiding out in the middle of a military base until you're deployed somewhere will only make things harder for both of you in the long run, both with civilians and the PRT and Protectorate. Whether I like it or not, people need to see the two of you, if only to show that the US military not trying to make its own version of the Yàngban."

I blinked again, then turned and gave Nataliya a bewildered look, and watched as she anxiously chewed her bottom lip with gleaming metal teeth hard enough that had her lips still been flesh and blood, we would have been frantically rushing her back to the MTF. I hadn't even given any thought to what her situation was now. We deliberately had avoided talking about her powers. Was her situation like mine, in that she felt she was simply too dangerous, too powerful for day-to-day Cape crap? Or was it her phobia of Parahumans in general? It had taken time for her to even open up to me, and she'd been so upset by my presence that she'd actually tried to stab me. And she liked me.

And I hadn't even considered what other people would even think about my desire to eventually join the Air Force or why that would upset anyone. Was it really that significant that I wanted nothing to do with the Protectorate at all right now, if not ever? Nataliya I could get. She hated and more importantly feared Parahumans in general. Something in SSgt Murphy's face told me that my decision was more significant than I ever imagined.

I wondered if that was why I'd yet to hear anything about just what had happened during that 'inspection.'

"More importantly," the older woman continued, "It's been decided to accelerate your training, Taylor. Yours too Nataliya, if you really are serious as you say you are about becoming a Parahuman with a military career."

My attention was drawn back to SSgt Murphy when she pointedly squeezed my shoulder. "Not to mention, Nataliya is going to need some changes to her wardrobe until she gets a better handle on her powers. You need some new clothes too, for that matter."

Nataliya stopped chewing her lip and blushed but nodded in agreement. Me? My hackles immediately rose and I reflexively, and more than a little defensively I have to admit, all but snapped, "I don't need new clothes!" Or maybe I did snap a little, because the Staff Sergeant gave me her Unamused Face and I swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in my throat.

"Cadet Hebert, as how this went without you noticing I have no idea, but you've put on more than twenty pounds of muscle since I've taken it upon myself to whip you into shape, and over the past two weeks I have literally lost count as to just how many times I've personally noticed you fiddling with your bra straps. Bra straps which, if my fingertips from a moment ago are correct, are digging into your shoulders. You. Need. New. Clothes."

I flinched and crossed my arms over my chest, and gave Nataliya a dirty look when I noticed her nodding in agreement.

"Oh, do not be childish, we both need clothes," she said with a roll of her eyes, then she pouted as she glanced down at her own chest. "I broke four of my favorite brassieres," she grumbled as she poked that absurd chest of hers. "And now I am stretching out all of my exercise brassieres whenever I change."

"Thank God you never poke at yourself like that where men can see you Nataliya," SSgt Murphy sighed out, making the other girl blush vividly and snatch her hands away from her chest. "And Taylor?" I froze where I'd been edging towards the stairs.

"I'm just going to the bathroom before we leave!"

"Uh huh. Alright," she said in the tone of the unconvinced. "Take longer than five minutes and I'll have Nataliya put you in an arm bar and walk you out the door to my car."

"Ugh, I'm not gonna run off just because you're making me do something!" I very deliberately did not slam the bathroom door. I did however, very slowly ease the bathroom window open, because I was not dealing with this, oh no. After all, I was only jumping down from the second floor, and I was in good enough shape to very carefully lower myself out of the window until just my fingertips were gripping the ledge, then I dropped the last five feet or so to the ground.

Nataliya was already outside and waiting for me, and tackled me to the grass before I made it ten feet.

I was still sulking in the back seat of SSgt Murphy's car next to Nataliya, right up until she pulled up to the gates cutting off Barnes Air National Guard base from the rest of Westfield, Massachusetts. After that I was mostly just sick to my stomach with nerves. I knew, logically, that the odds of getting caught up in another running Cape fight again were absurd. But the rest of me kept seeing lunatics in business suits waiting to pounce. And if I was anxious, Nataliya was all but hyperventilating as she clung to my good arm hard enough that I just knew I was going to have bruises, and that by itself was telling given that she was in her Changer state and was normally extraordinarily careful about just how much strength she used when touching me.

The crowd outside of the base's main entrance, held at bay by the very real threat of at least three full ground flights of Airmen, very nearly drove the both of us to panic attacks.

They were more than a hundred meters away from the gates on either side of the road, held back by a security cordon that was respected more because of the assault rifles and combat armor that the Airmen stationed at the gate wore than the 'No Trespassing' signs, though I don't doubt that the heavy machine guns that I could see mounted on the roofs of the two humvees parked on either side of said gate was also helping the protestors maintain their no-doubt very healthy respect.

That didn't keep them from shouting or brandishing their signs, covered with slogans like 'No Military Capes!' 'They Belong In The Wards!' and 'Child Soldiers Are Wrong!' But the one that cut the deepest were the signs that said things like 'Justice For Westgate Plaza!' and 'Lock Them Up!'

I barely heard SSgt yelling at someone in her cell phone. My arm and side suddenly started hurting furiously and my heart leapt into my throat and suddenly I could see the barrel of Bastard Son's pistol gleaming in the sun as he prepared to put a bullet into Nataliya's hea-

[EMERGENCY]

[What?]

[Hostiles present ≤ 200 meters]

[WARNING: Allied Unit: Thunder Thighs Tilly in distress, status: critical!]

[Oh, shit.]

[DEFENSIVE SYSTEMS ONLINE]

[Taylor! You need to calm down or you're going to hurt someone! It's just a fucking flashback! Fuck. Command override: Kappa Tau Foxtrot Delta Three Three Nine Rho!]

[Command Override accepted]

[Rose, verify IFF failure, civilians present, friendlies present! This isn't an AOE!]

[LOCKING DOWN DEFENSIVE SYSTEMS]

[WARNING: Allied Unit: Tilly in distress, status: critical!]

[Requesting connection to Allied Unit: Tilly]

[Access: Granted]

[Real Time Data Link Established]

And then suddenly, I could feel Nataliya, feel the quiet rumbling of the dual turbofan engines buried deep in her torso as they kept spinning up faster and idling back down, feel her panicked mental fingers fumbling for the cannon she'd somehow taken from me over a week ago, and instinctively knew that if she brought out that monster of a gun here and now, it would be bad.

But before I could even think of doing or saying anything, I realized that she was already doing her best to force her panicked hyperventilating into a very deliberate meditative breathing exercise as she tried to calm herself down and held onto me just as tightly as I realized that I was holding her.

I squeezed my eyes shut so I didn't have to notice the way I could feel SSgt Murphy staring at us and kept my face firmly buried against Nataliya's neck as I did my best to get my own panicked breathing under control.

Slowly, I could feel my frantic heart/Nataliya's furious twin turbofan engines calm. My shirt was wet where the other girl had been sobbing into my shirt, and from the hot wetness on my cheeks, her shirt likely wasn't much better.

"Nataliya, are you girls both alright back there?" I heard SSgt Murphy softly ask as Nataliya began very gently rubbing the back of my head and neck. I tried to answer even though the Staff Sergeant wasn't addressing me, but the words wouldn't leave the little speaker strapped to my throat, just a harsh, staticky high-pitched squeal like an old modem.

"Shhh," the quasi-mechanical girl whispered into my ear, then as I squeezed my eyes shut, she pressed my face to her chest and continued to rub my neck, and she said in a louder voice, "I am f-fine, Staff Sergeant. B-but I t-think that Taylor is h-having more d-difficulty than I am."

I wanted to deny it but I literally could not stop shaking.

"Fuck," the older woman swore. "We'll try this again another day." My heart leapt into my throat at the possibility of having to deal with a second crowd of screaming angry people. As much as I wanted to just crawl back into my bed right now and I mean right now, I wasn't going to let a bunch of assholes bully me just because of whatever the hell bullshit beliefs they had made them think that it was okay!

"Staff Sergeant, we both want to go," Nataliya quietly but firmly said despite the quaver in her voice. "Taylor does not want to give in to bullies."

For a moment, I wondered just how she knew that. But then I could feel her there, a warmth that was as much in my own chest as it was in my arms, in her own way just as frightened and shaken and nauseous. But the flavor of her thoughts and emotions was there, and I could only call it 'flavor' because that was the only way that I could wrap my mind around it, something sweet and sour all at once, with a reminder of the toffees she loved so much at the edges, and the fear. So much of it. But Nataliya had been dealing with fear for far longer than I'd had to endure Them. And dammit, if my absurdly gluttonous friend could force herself to endure driving through an angry crowd then so could I. "Tch, come on already Taylor!" Nataliya scolded. "Where is your spine?! Are you going to let these miscreants shove you around?!"

I hiccupped and shivered. Then I raised my face from Nataliya's chest to meet the Staff Sergeant's eyes. I wanted to cringe when I caught my reflection in the mirror and saw the tear tracks and the trickle of snot that leaked from my nose, but I evenly met her gaze all the same, and hoped that she wouldn't say anything about the white-knuckled grip my shaking hand had on Nataliya's.

"... Alright," was Murphy's calm reply after an eternity of staring into my reddened eyes. "I'll make sure that our police escort is still waiting." And then she was back on her phone and I sank into the comfort of Nataliya's side again, shifting until my cheek was against her chest again. I was still like that when Murphy's car began moving a couple minutes later, slotting neatly in between two waiting police cruisers.

I did my best to ignore the shouting and chanting as we drove past, and welcomed how Nataliya's grip around my middle tightened. Neither of us paid attention to the occasional camera flashes.

Murphy drove us almost to the other side of Westfield, almost outside of the city in fact, giving Nataliya and I time to calm down and settle our nerves and in particular gave me time to clean my face as best as I could with tissue. Nataliya took less physical effort, largely because she'd spent the entirely of that extraordinarily stressful encounter in her Changer state (and whatever polymer her face was made out of laughed mockingly at anything as piddling as tear stains), but I'd still made an utter mess of the shirt she'd been wearing.

I'd never heard of the clothing chain that she drove us to, but apparently it was a successful one, judging from the size of the store. But we didn't get out right away after she parked. Instead, the older woman turned around to peer back at us both.

"Girls. It wasn't my intention for you to become aware of protesters like that just yet," she said with a grimace. "Especially not so soon after last Saturday. But if the two of you are going to openly be military Parahumans, that won't be the last time you have to deal with people like that. More often than not, you both will have to deal with people that not only will believe that you both are making a mistake, and that they have the right to get in your face about it. So, we're going to be in and out, as quickly as we can to hopefully keep that from happening again and giving our police escort too much work."

"I'd prefer more Airmen from the base," I quietly mumbled and Nataliya sullenly nodded in agreement, which surprisingly got a laugh out of the Staff Sergeant. "Girls, that makes three of us, but unless another situation happens there are laws about that sort of thing and the General doesn't want us ruffling feathers if we can avoid it. And by 'we' I actually mean you two. Now, out of the car. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can head back."

I'd wondered whether or not two police cruisers keeping us company would be enough, only to discover that SSgt Murphy, if anything, had understated our escort. There were two more police cruisers already waiting in the parking lot when we finally climbed out of the car. That was a relief because people took notice of us before we even made it to the front door.

Nataliya shrank against my side the instant people began pointing at her unusual appearance even though she kept her head high and her face in that arrogant scorn that she did so well, an expression that I was actually beginning to get strangely fond of. But we were also holding hands as tightly as we dared and I could feel the anxiety of people noticing her gnawing at her gut that she kept from showing on her face. One brave soul actually dared to try to approach. The key word there being 'tried.'

I didn't know if he wanted to get a picture up close or an autograph or just to talk, like they would have with a Ward. Nataliya's head whipped in their direction the moment they were just outside of arm's reach, and it was all I could do to keep a straight face as she drew her innate bitchiness up to full power and leveled a glare full of such contemptuous disdain and loathing that he froze in his tracks.

"What?" she snapped at him, making the young man flinch back from the unexpected venom.

"Uh," he began, "I just wanted to know if maybe you were a new Ward and if-"

"No, I am not a Ward. Go away," Nataliya scornfully replied as we walked past him with SSgt Murphy in tow and shaking her head in exasperation. I had to bite the inside of my cheek when I heard the guy mutter "Wow, what a bitch."

All three of us stopped.

We turned.

The young man avoided eye-contact and swiftly strode back in the direction he'd come from.

I really wish I could say that he was the only such gawker that we had to deal with. Nataliya's appearance drew a lot of attention, and so did I. At first I'd kind of hoped that it'd only be my friend, but I stood out more than a little too. Fortunately, there weren't many people dumb enough to try and take pictures on their phones of two girls trying to quietly shop for clothes.

Yeah, I can't even say that with a straight face.

The staff of the store must have politely and not-so-politely thrown out almost a dozen people for pointing their cell phones at us, though one young woman trying to creep closer to get a picture nearly had her wrist broken by SSgt Murphy, who was even less amused when she snatched the girl's phone right out of her hand.

I wish I could say things got easier after that, given how my clothing preferences tended to run, and I don't even think I've ever seen Nataliya wear anything other than ABUs or PT uniforms. But as it turns out, even a little dressing room was enough to give me a little trouble with the claustrophobia I've had since January, and worse was that everything that I wanted to wear, that I should have been able to wear, didn't fit.

I'd gotten broader in the hips, shoulders, and around my chest, and had to get measured all over again for new, well, everything. And staring at my reflection for the first time in… in I don't even know how long anymore, I wanted to be able to objectively say that yeah, I was filling out quite a bit since January, yeah I looked good for my age, great even.

Instead I heard THEIR voices in my head, telling me how repulsive and disgusting I was, and that was all I could see. Over and over and over until Nataliya came in to check in on me.

It was only after she coaxed me into getting my clothes back on and helped me clean my face off again that I realized I'd been standing there unmoving and staring at my reflection for several straight minutes.

Fuck, I'm so pathetic.

Mercifully, our trip back to base was much less eventful, not that I was in a good headspace to appreciate that, as I spent the entire drive back curled up in the backseat with my head on Nataliya's lap and our purchases packed into the trunk of SSgt Murphy's car. Despite the gentle sensation of my friend's fingers on my scalp and neck, it was like I was stuck.

It was stupid, so fucking stupid. My life was better now! With a little luck I'd never even see any of those bitches ever again, my relationship with Dad was getting better, and I was even making friends again!

So why the hell did just looking at myself drag me down like this?! How?! How was I this fucked up still, because of those three?! And it was even worse because I knew, I knew how stupid it was that I was feeling this way, but I just couldn't help it. Was I just doomed to have them keep dragging me down like this, even though they were nowhere near me anymore?

I don't even remember the rest of that day, I was so fucked up and stuck in my own head.

I just remember at some point I was quietly crying into my pillow, with Nataliya back in human form and snuggled up against my back with her arms wrapped around me. Just being there for me at my lowest, just like I was for her. But I could still feel her, there in my chest somehow. I guess that just like me, even when she wasn't pulling on her power, it was always active and idling.

I could feel her worried concern, her calm patience. A certainty that she knew I'd be alright, even though I wasn't all that sure myself at that particular moment. A genuine appreciation of our odd intimacy combined with a shy and embarrassed spark of attraction, which brought a blush to my cheeks. That she honestly felt that I was made of stronger stuff than she was, which was just bewildering. But what struck me the most was that she wasn't afraid of me anymore.

Just for an instant, that frightened me.

But then she gently squeezed my middle, then I felt her shift against my back, followed by a quiet gasp because I could feel her feeling me in turn.

I wasn't sure which one of us thought/felt that, or even which of us had gasped. I just knew that, if I really wanted to, I could push that link wider, until everything was open to me, her senses, her thoughts, maybe even her memories. But she'd have just as much access to me.

I had no idea at the time such a thing was unheard of when it came to Parahumans and actually believed impossible. I just knew that, as I turned to stare at Nataliya, I could feel her own stunned surprise as much as I could see it in her face.

"Should… ah, should we tell someone about this?" my voice quietly spoke from my choker, which sat on the nightstand next to my bed. Nataliya shivered against me and her brow furrowed until her eyebrows nearly touched. I suddenly knew her answer before she opened her mouth to speak, and she paused because she knew that I knew, but she said it anyway.

"Maybe? We probably should," she quietly admitted, "but I am afraid that they would make us stop. I… I like this. It is nice, not feeling lonely anymore."

Emotions flickered by, almost too fast to feel/taste yet I felt them anyways because they found an echo in me. That echo hurt, but not as much as it would have.

"You are not ugly/fat, Taylor/Nataliya," we spoke in eerie synchronicity. We both blushed. Her eyes watered, and so did mine. Then Nataliya giggled and I couldn't help but quietly laugh too, and we shifted against one another into something more cautiously, comfortably intimate.

"Taylor? Does this make us lesbians?" she quietly asked me with a pang of nervous unease coloring her thoughts, and I almost thought it was my own memories of Brockton Bay flavoring her emotions, they felt so similar.

"I dunno Tilly." I paused and shifted to rest my head in the space between her chin and her chest. "Do we have to be?"

I giggled when I felt her awkward shrug.

"I don't know either. I never even really thought about liking anyone like, uhh, like that."

She giggled as she felt my embarrassment, but like my laughter earlier, there was no cruelty in it, mostly just a relief that I felt just as uncertain and confused as she did.

"Then it is stupid to waste time worrying about it when we have more important things to waste time on," she imperiously decreed, and I felt my lips twist into a smirk.

"Like making toffee?" I asked teasingly.

"And macaroons. And biscuits. And pies. And-" she squealed with laughter when I attacked her ribs with my fingers. But before we could really get into it we both froze and blushed furiously, suddenly aware that neither of us were quite ready for whatever what was going to happen or might have happened, not now, not with both of our emotions so raw and so close to the surface and with our odd link still so new and fresh.

I guess that in a way, it was a very good thing that neither of us felt ready to push further.

But that didn't stop me from snuggling back into Nataliya's arms and resting my head against her chest, or stop her from almost possessively slipping an arm around me. I was grateful just to have someone, even if I still wasn't sure what that someone was to me, and I knew that she felt the same. And to think, I once just thought her a psychopathic Russian bitch.

"... Did you truly, all this time, think I was Russian?!" Nataliya suddenly blurted out, and I was suddenly gripped with bewildered panic because I didn't know if I'd said that out loud or if she merely felt/sensed it through our link. But then she started snorting and wheezing with laughter, which set me off laughing, which had her laughing even harder.