Three years later…

I woke up to Leona lightly slapping my face with a rapid tempo. “Duggan, wake up! Do you hear that?”

Trying to roll my head away from the assault, I said, “All I can hear is you slapping me.”

She stopped, smiling at me with a guilty expression. “Sorry babe, but—”

“Shush,” I said, because then I did hear something.

The room got quiet, and I smiled as I recognized the sound of a jeep engine as it clawed its way up our ‘driveway.’

We got dressed quickly, but Leona was faster, running down the stairs to the first floor of our cabin. I heard the jeep’s engine cut off and doors slamming. The front screen door slammed next, and then Leona squealed with happiness.

Laughing at her merriment, I took my time in descending the stairs and opening the door. By the time I was outside, Leona was hugging Greg, spinning around fast enough to make his legs swing out behind him.

Greg shouted protests that he was too old for such treatment, and Maggie giggled at her son’s misfortunes.

(more…)

Walking into the bookstore, I went to the first display I could find to grab a book and pay for it before I got in line to have it signed. As I stood in the checkout line, I looked at the cover and smiled.

Wallace Cornwall was written at the top in big bold letters, and under the photo of a smoking pistol was the title I’m OK, but I’m Still Going to Kill You.

I thought it was catchy, and the book was certainly popular, being that it was the first self-help guide for criminals and super villains. The book was number one on every bestseller list, as even normal people were curious to see what kind of advice a shrink and retired superhero would have for his former enemies.

I’d watched an interview with Wallace, and Leona goaded me into searching him out. She said it was the yearning look I’d had that convinced her it was the right decision.

I got to the signing table and handed Wallace my book. He kept his head down, ready to write anything at my request.

When I said nothing, he asked, “Who should I dedicate this to?”

“Could you make it out to our love child?” I joked, laughing when Wallace’s head snapped up.

(more…)

Wallace set down the tray of drinks and passed them around, going back to the bar to mix several more to replace the glasses he knew would soon be empty.

Everyone inside LeVeaux Tower had run home the instant Burgess opened the blast doors, leaving us completely alone in the restaurant. We gathered around one of the larder round table closest to the bar.

Leona sat between Burgess and I, claiming that she was making sure he wouldn’t try to kill me.

Chet sat with Vicky in his lap, his gaze drifting around from me to Wallace and Leona many times. Each time he looked at Vicky, she smiled and curled her fingers through the back of his wavy blond hair. I wasn’t sure who was happier over  being reunited.

I’d sent Morgan back to the lab after he declined my invitation to come up for a drink. Early the next day, I would turn the city over to Bella, and Morgan said he had some work to do in the lab before company arrived. I insisted that he deserved a rest, but Morgan was just as insistent that rest could wait.

Morgan took Wally’s body with him. I let him do it, though I was certain there was no way the boy could be saved with how badly his body had been burned. If Morgan butchered his remains, what did it matter? Wally sure wouldn’t care.

(more…)

Yes, I should have seen that there were some holes in my plot, but this wasn’t something I could have predicted. I looked at Vicky, who shrugged as she offered us an apologetic pout.

Leona yelled to Wallace, “When she said we didn’t know who her father was, do you suppose the bitch could have let us in on the joke?”

Laughing weakly, I walked closer to the helicopter before I drew my shrink ray gun. The pilot saw it and tried to veer off, but it was too late. I shot the chopper and flew up toward the tiny speck, pinching its tail under my fingernail.

The President yelled over his bullhorn, “Damn you, let go of my huey! Don’t you know who I am?”

He sounded like a chipmunk sucking helium.

Landing on the roof, I pinched the rotors and broke them, and then I handed the disabled craft to Vicky.

“Your father’s life is in your hands now—” I stopped when she dropped the chopper to the ground and stomped it repeatedly.

Just to make sure he was dead, she ground her heel, twisting it back and forth.

Shaking my head, I remarked, “Huh, well that was…unexpected.”

(more…)

I know this may not be much of a news flash for some of you, but hangovers suck. On a day as important as today, I didn’t need one, but I had a doozy of a headache thumping my poor noggin as I looked over my “troops.”

Resisting the urge to rub my head, I said, “Alright, Morgan will be manning the broadcast van parked at the garage. Morgan, you’ve got six cameras to work with, so I’ll be expecting something damned close to a movie of the week. Things probably will go wrong, but here’s basically what I think will happen. We’ll go live with Vicky, who will publicly ask Miracle Man to save her. I will then ask him to come out of retirement for the sake of the city, and since we’re broadcasting on most every major station, it won’t be long before we’re surrounded by criminals of every rank.

“Now Morgan, you need to make sure you send that footage above all else. Miracle Man needs to see the sheer numbers of villains in his city, or this is never going to work. After thirty minutes, I will assume our hero isn’t showing. At that point, I will issue a final warning to the criminals to leave. If they don’t, I’ll kill anyone who won’t retreat.”

“So will I,” Wallace said.

“I will too,” Leona agreed in a low voice.

(more…)

I opened my eyes, becoming aware of my surroundings just as the stasis pod door slid open. Leona and Wallace stood in front of me, both of them pouting with anxious postures.  Leona nibble at her nails, her ears and tail both drooping; while  Wallace  played pocket pool, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

As I got out, I looked toward my work table, where Morgan worked on my suit. Wally watched over his shoulder, an intense scowl on his freckled face as he tried to understand what Morgan was doing.

“How long was I in there?” I asked.

“Two days,” Morgan said. He set down his tools and turned on the stool to face me. “You lost vital signs twice on the way here, but Wallace resuscitated you both times.”

I nodded absently before gesturing at my suit. “You still aren’t done with the repairs?”

“No this is the spare suit. Wallace burned out the flight component and had to walk back to the lab last night.” Morgan shook his shaggy head, spilling brown hair over his unbuttoned collar. “I don’t understand how, though. Theoretically, this kind of damage to the nano-circuitry is impossible, but the components are fused in such a way as to suggest that he’s drawing too much power.”

“Can you fix it?” I asked.

“I already did. I’ve been installing redundant power supplies and backup neuro-pathways to keep the suit from failing in a time of need. I had to, since my inspection of his suit and your collar proved this isn’t a fluke. He consistently burns out equipment.”

I nodded my approval of Morgan’s hard work. “It’s a shame I’m quitting tomorrow. You and I would have been a great team.”

(more…)

The dryers were all empty. Shutting the last dryer, I couldn’t help but laugh at my problems. My suit would need to be repaired if it was washed, yet I couldn’t even find it to determine how badly damaged it was. I realized I would most likely need a plan B.

Dressed in one of Chet’s sweatshirts and a pair of drawstring gym shorts that were drawn tightly around my much smaller waist, I decided to walk back to Leona’s to wait for her, at which point I would nicely ask where the hell my suit had gone.

I found Wallace and Leona both waiting for me, and Leona got up quickly, an apologetic look on her face already. “Duggan, I’m so sorry, I washed your suit and then forgot about—” She stopped as she got closer to me, sniffing the air. She crossed her arms while an amused smirk formed on her lips. “My, that’s an interesting cologne you’re wearing.”

Feigning innocence, I said, “I’m not wearing cologne.”

“Oh yes you are,” Leona said, and then snorted. “I believe its called Sweaty Chet number five.”

(more…)

I woke up disoriented in a wholly unfamiliar place and position. I felt something brush against my face and opened my eyes to find Leona in my arms. She was sleeping with her back to me, and her tail twitched on my cheek as she dreamt of something that seemed to excite her.

I smiled at this until it dawned on me that my arms were bare. Slipping my other arm out from under Leona, I lifted the covers and suppressed a groan when I saw that both of us were nude.

I hadn’t had enough to drink that I could have blacked out, and it seemed reasonable to me that Leona had woken up and undressed me before going to bed with me. After a few drinks I am a fairly heavy sleeper, and so I took this in stride as I sat up and searched the room for my clothes. I couldn’t find them, so I got up and checked Leona’s closet. Again, no luck.

I heard a knock and sighed, grabbing a robe before I went to answer the door.

Wallace took one look at my robe before gasping. “You didn’t,” he said, a grin already parting his lips.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” I waved him inside. “I went to sleep in Leona’s room when she passed out on her couch. Somewhere during the night, she woke up and came to bed, undressing me before she went back to sleep.”

As I explained this, I went to the kitchen to set up a pot of coffee. “The funny part is, I think she hid my suit so I can’t get dressed until after she wakes up.”

(more…)

I sat on the couch for a little over two hours, waiting for Leona to return from her first patrol of the city as a hero. The longer I sat, the more miserable I became.

I could see how all of my plots had been cries for Miracle Man to notice me, to see me for who I was. But all along I’d been deluding myself. My final plot to get him back in the game would give him back the love of his life, which certainly wasn’t me, and I was forced to admit that my entire life had been built around the flimsiest of fantasies.

Worse, I had screwed up by giving in to my desires for Wallace. I could have tried to convince myself that I was happy to learn that he felt as much for me as I did for him. But I heard Wallace reminding me over and over that what I wanted was just another dream. I couldn’t be with him without jeopardizing his career, family and marriage. Even I wasn’t deluded enough to want that.

I was crying to myself when Leona walked in. She took one look at me and went to the kitchen as she began slipping off her bodysuit. I heard her mixing a drink, and she walked up to me with a glass.

She handed me the drink without a word and went to her room, her suit slung over her shoulder. She returned to the living dressed in her kimono robe and sat down at the other end of the couch, for the first time in a while giving me some space.

After several minutes in silence, she scooted across the couch and took my head in her hands, pulling me against her before she rubbed my shoulders.

“Something happened with Wallace,” she said.

(more…)

Wallace looked up from his game of solitaire, as did Leona. Sitting on the floor across from Wallace with her elbows propped on her holy relic coffee table, she watched his game with glazed, unfocused eyes as I walked through the door.

When he didn’t lay down the card in his hand, she looked up at him, and then over at me. I guessed she was so bored that she hadn’t noticed my arrival.

I nodded a quiet answer to her questioning look, which made her ears and tail perk up right away. My gaze fell on Vicky next, seated on the divan and holding her arms around her chest like she was barely keeping herself together.

I smiled as I gave her a quick thumbs up. “Yes, he still loves you, and he’ll take you back under the right conditions.”

Looking relieved, Vicky let the tension drain from her shoulders and back as she asked, “What conditions might those be?”

“The one’s I’m making for you,” I said.

(more…)